


Chemistry 101

by CodeBlue1180, MrsFlashBrightside



Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst with a Happy Ending, College, Doctor!Danny, Everything Hurts, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Fluff and Angst, Football, Football Player!Julian, Hospitals, Hurts So Good, M/M, Student!Julian, Teacher!Danny, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Author Regrets Everything, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-20 15:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodeBlue1180/pseuds/CodeBlue1180, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsFlashBrightside/pseuds/MrsFlashBrightside
Summary: Fire has something mystical about it, till you touch it and hurt yourself.My name is Danny Amendola and this is the story of how almost everything in my life went down in blazing flames.





	1. The New Guy

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, this is a work in progress and I'd like to know what you think about it (like if I should continue).  
> If you like it, I already have 13 chapters good to go and I'll post a lot (hehehe). This chapter is just a sample and I promise they get bigger. 
> 
> CodeBlue1180 thank you for everything you've done so far, but most of all thank you for your friendship (don't send me Snow right now, I love my pool parties).
> 
> Oh, it doesn't hurt to remember:  
> Nothing there is mine, but the crazy idea.

Okay, first, my name is Danny Amendola and this is the story of how almost everything in my life went down in blazing flames.

I was fresh out of my PHD - Yep, I’m a doctor – and I sincerely couldn’t believe when my Master’s thesis advisor called me, saying she was retiring and asking me if I wanted her to put in a good word to her boss for me. Theresa was there for so fucking long. I remember joking around saying I would retire ten years before she would even consider resting her markers. When Dr. McDaniels called me three days later offering me the spot, I had a hard time believing it as well.

I was 33 and by that time I knew I would be the youngest faculty member. It didn’t really matter if I had worked my ass off on my thesis and deserved the job, people would always be suspicious of me. So, of course I wouldn’t get any exciting classes right away. Labs, though, showed that they believed in my potential. 

I would write poetry thanking Theresa for the Human Anatomy and Physiology class I got – if I could write poetry.

As soon as I established myself in town, in a nice and cozy apartment ten minutes away from the campus, I put together what I thought would be a nice syllabus for my classes. It actually took me two and a half weeks to be happy with all of them, but in the end it was worth all the time I spent, McDaniels’ expression was so full of pride.

On the afternoon before my first class, I was so nervous I couldn’t stay still. After I had lunch, it was barely 1PM and I kept pacing around my living room, trying to come up with something to do with myself. That was when I remembered Dr. Fitzpatrick had asked if I wanted to go to a little meeting. The other professors had a tradition for every football tryout and I would be just a little late if I left at that moment.

Now I wish I hadn’t.

When I got there, I was surprised to see eight men drinking really expensive wine out of really cheap cups. According to the tall, blond, model looking/professor and owner of the Economic Theory chair, Dr. Brady, or just Tom as he asked, the tradition had started 10 years earlier, with him, his TA Matt – now a PHD, teaching at USC -, and two other professors, whom had retired. They would drink wine out of real glass, but later they found out that slightly drunk men watching football tended to break things easily.

Looking back, I remembered them sitting on the bleachers on my senior year. Two fat guys, Brady and a cute dude. Brady said he remembered me and that he was surprised I didn’t end up in the NFL.

I wasn’t.

It was actually easy to laugh at their stories and by the time I was properly introduced to the six professors I didn’t know, I was on my second cup and feeling calmer. I apologized for not having any wine on me, but Tom said they had wine for at least two days if we kept on drinking the way we were.

The funny thing about the meeting was that football was the only thing that brought us together. I mean, only two guys were in the same department I was, but we all played through the college and I told them I met Dr. Fitzpatrick when he was just Ryan, playing Quarterback for the Harvard Crimson.

They were friendly, I’ll give them that, but I felt like a fish out of the water. And how could I not when I was the only one not wearing a Kent’s Golden Flashes Jersey with my name. I was contemplating my tedious plain black V-neck when Dr. Rodgers, the quietest of the guys, tapped me on the shoulder and asked me if I wanted him to ask the college staff to get me a Jersey. After that, I started to loosen up and man, even though that was the beginning of my end, those guys made me truly happy.

We decided to hit the field about twenty to three. Ryan and a light-brown haired professor, I didn’t actually remember the name then, had backpacks full of wine bottle when we made our way to the tryout. I was not prepared to the sight of the crowd of students filling the campus. Old students chatting with friends or attempting to flirt with the freshman. The ones who weren’t engaging in the activities were just trying to get by and find their way towards the dorms.

I also wasn’t prepared to have our group being stopped all the time. All the old students seemed to know at least four of the guys and they were eager to introduce themselves to the ones they didn’t.

Quite a few students, I noticed, were ogling me, reminding me of my TA times. Smiling to myself and nodding to some of the most embarrassing cases of ogling, I made my way with the guys laughing and mocking me. Tom was calling me the new heartthrob professor and Dr. Manning – or Eli, because his brother was also a teacher at Kent and it would be confusing to call him Manning –, was actually saying I was an Italian stallion.

“LET’S GO BOYS!” Tom yelled taking a seat on the first row of seats on the bleachers. I laughed at the guys repeating Tom’s action and screaming words of encouragement to the group of players kneeling in front of the coaching staff and with their backs to us. We weren’t supposed to be there, but Tom was good friends with Coach Belichick, so we got the pass. I just never imagine we could be loud and shit.

Even if we were not close enough for details, Belichick was not what the television had painted him as and the reason behind the sleeveless hoodies was beyond my comprehension, but he was doing a damn good job of putting those poor kids in their places.

I still had nightmares of Belichick back in my college days.

“Hey guys, ain’t that the Redwood kid with McCarthy over there?” Eli asked pointing towards a shirtless blonde boy standing beside one of the Coaches. I couldn’t see his face from the distance I was, but he had one hand behind his head and the other was pointing almost randomly at the field.

“Yeah. Well, I guess so,” I registered Tom’s voice without taking my eyes of the boy. “Edelman, if I remember correctly.”

“Why in the hell is he not paying attention, though? Lord Belisith is scary as fuck.” Eli sounded genuinely scared of Belichick, so I looked from the kid to him and the furrow on his brows didn’t lie, no one could contain the bubbles of laughter in our chests.

"I talked to McCarthy earlier this morning. Edelman was, like, a quarterback/punt and kick returner through almost all high school.” Rodgers said, taking off his sunglasses. “Last year he decided he wanted to be a receiver and switched position like it was nothing. He’s not tall, nor remarkably strong, but he had like 1600 receiving yards and 20 touchdowns.”

Man, that was impressive as fuck. I remembered my high school playing time, I had like 1000 yards and colleges thought I was good.

"No way in hell,” Ryan mumbled filling his cup once again.

“I’m telling you, man! Edelman is the real deal, he can play wherever he wants and he’s not even 5’10’’,” That was the most he heard Rodgers speak the whole day. “The only problem is, he has a bit of an attitude. McCarthy told me he is smug as hell.”

“Let’s hope he’s worthy,” The most good looking professor - c’mon, those blue eyes, square jaw and messy blonde hair would’ve been enough to have anyone looking twice –, Dr. Welker said nonchalantly, looking at his glass and I spared him a glance once again like I was doing all afternoon. Allowing my mind to travel a bit, I thought that would be nice to fuck someone like Welker. Like, without any sort of commitment, maybe having him writhing under me or just riding-

“SHOW ‘EM BOYS!” Tom’s shout got me out of my daydream. Startled, I turned to the field.

I shouldn’t have done that.

Sipping my wine, I watched a group of students running in our direction and the Edelman kid was running along with them. Each step he took, the more I could see his features and before he started to run the drills, I got a nice quick look at him. FRESHMANS WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO LOOK THAT FUCKING GOOD.

He had that ‘I’m a bad boy’ vibe and I couldn’t really see his face, but those abs, those abs were what I studied anatomy for and what I wanted to lick.

Badly.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of the boy so I did the only thing that would take my thoughts off of the path they were taking: I downed the rest of my wine in a big gulp.

“THAT’S THE WAY TO GO!” Professor Smith, a black, bald and smiley man, shouted at the same time Eli yelled “WELCOME ITALIAN STALLION!” They were louder than they probably should have, but I knew the alcohol was hazing their better judgment.

All the players on that section in front of us were able to hear them; consequently, about ten students turned their heads in our direction, including the Edelman kid.

In my right mind, I would have blushed hard, but I couldn’t look away from those abs. The hand trailing down them and stopping at the hem of his shorts told me he knew I was looking.

ILLEGAL! STUDENT!

“C’mon Danny,” I heard Tony’s Texas twang right beside me, snapping me out of my sex trance and forcing me to look away from the boy and look at his face. “Don’t go that way.” He smiled sweetly.

Tony was the old acquaintance I had in the squad, met him in a congress held at EIU when I started my Masters and we never lost contact. He helped me get historical data for my research and spent so much time at Texas Tech, that we were almost friends.

“I swear I’m not,” I said faking innocence. He knew me better though.

“I’m sure you’re not,” he said, pouring me more wine and taking a seat beside me. He lowered his voice so just I could hear, “Just, keep looking at Wes and ask him out. Don’t engage in any extra-curricular activities with students, okay?”

I felt my cheeks getting warmer and looked at the man I was fantasizing about a couple minutes before; he was not that appealing anymore. Still good looking, though.

Welker chose that moment to look at me. At catching me looking, he offered me an alcohol-affected smile and, truly, it was really sweet. Edelman was way, way off limits, so why not? That moment I decided I would get to meet Welker deeper.

Later that same day, back at my apartment, freshly showered, wearing boxers, sprawled on my super cozy couch and trying to nurse a massive dizziness, I attempted to text my NFL Quarterback friend, Sam. He had a miraculous drink recipe that cured hangover, even though it tasted like shit.

I had just managed to send a message without any major mistakes when I received a call from Dr. McDaniels.

“Hey Doctor McDaniels,” I knew I sound every bit of drunk I was, with my Texan accent heavier than it usually was, but one cannot simply ignore the head of the Biomedicine department.

“I already told you to call me Josh, Danny. And are you alright?” His voice sounded so loud I had to fight myself not to hiss.

“Yes, I am.”

No, I wasn’t.

It worked though, ‘cause McDaniels continued. “Anyway, I’m just calling to let you know about the news,” I walked in the small kitchen to fetch myself a bottle of water while listening to McDaniels. “Your classes, for some reason, have gotten a burst of student’s requirement.”

“What?” Was the only thing my drunk mind could come up with.

“I don’t really know what happened this afternoon, but your Human Biology class had twenty students this morning and by the end of this afternoon you had fifty-two students asking to be in that class.” The man sounded so amused that I started to think it was a joke.

“Oh my, - like, seventy-two students? Man, that’s a lot! Will they even fit in the classroom?” I couldn’t help but smile, while making my way to my bedroom.

“I know, right?! That’s why we’re transferring your 7:30 class to classroom 217. Same building, just bigger.”

“I’ve never, in a million years, thought this would happen,” I said honestly, as I placed the water bottle on the nightstand and dropped myself onto my bed.

“As Bill always says boy, do your job and everything will fall into its place. Theresa must be really proud of you now. Well, see you tomorrow Danny.”

“Thank you and till tomorrow.”

After I hung up I tried to assimilate what happened and I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why I had gotten so many students. It couldn’t be the handsome teacher card, could it?

At that moment, I needed to sleep or I would throw up, so I didn’t gave that a lot of thought. Handsome or not, I still had to go through my first class ever and with a giant hangover.

The last thought to cross my head before sleep won me over was ‘Way to go Doctor Amendola’.


	2. But boy you're only a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My phone fell into the water and I'm sad.  
> Thanks CodeBlue1180 for helping me, as always :)

_What the shit? Fuck the Alarm… THE ALARM, Fuck me!_

That was how I woke on my first day. My phone said I had half an hour to get to my class and my head said close your eyes and lay the fuck down you drunk maniac.

I punched a quick text to my TA, Chris, asking him – no, begging him – to get me coffee, while I fished a towel.

Sincerely, I couldn’t have been luckier than to be the one taking over his thesis when Theresa left. Chris was such a smart dude and so eager to help. We met three months before the classes started and just hit it off. When I asked him to be my TA, he jumped in quickly, without blinking.

After the quickest shower ever, I considered having something to eat, but my stomach strongly disagreed with me, contracting violently and lucky me, there was nothing there to throw up or my room would be devastated.

Since I didn’t have time to spare, I grabbed the first thing I could to wear and it was totally on me the fault of spending the whole day in a blue checkered button-up and chino pants a bit too tight for my own good.

I brushed my teeth, trying to get rid of the taste of dead bodies inside my mouth and cursing myself for deciding it was ok to drink that much.

The lights were so bright and my head was pounding so badly when I left my apartment, that I almost cried and certainly, without shades I would’ve been a big ball of useless mumbling.

Thank God for small mercies.

The decision of bringing the books we would use through the semester to show them to the students was coming back to bite me in the ass in the form of the strap of my messenger bag, digging heavily on my shoulder.

My phone showed me I got there two minutes early, when I finally saw Chris’ tall and lanky figure, sporting his usual messy hair in front of the classroom. He gave me a mischievous smile and offered me a large Starbucks cup.

“Don’t ask,” I started, accepting the coffee. “It’s all Dr. Brady’s fault!”

Chris laughed, before turning to the door, “Good morning to you too, Danny.” He entered and I stayed back for the minute I had before the class started to drink as much coffee as I could, despite my stomach's insistent protests.

When I entered, all the talking in the classroom slowly diminished and my head thanked sincerely all the students that recognized me and took their time to warn the others, while I made my way towards my desk.

“Good Morning,” I said fishing for a whiteboard marker inside my bag and placing it over the desk. Even though I was experiencing the worst hangover ever, I forced myself to take my shades off and place it beside my bag. With my hands sweating and without turning around to look at my class, I went to the whiteboard and wrote ‘Dr. Amendola’, while saying. “I am Doctor Danny Amendola and you can call me Mister Amendola, Amendola, Doctor, whatever you want. Just, please, don’t call me Professor, for some reason it makes me feel old.”

I spun in my heels so I could finally meet my class and had to fight to keep my posture and my welcoming smile. The Edelman boy was sprawled in a seat right in front of me on the first row. I could see his face clearly and, for god sakes, what was that jaw? Was he supposed to have 5 o’clock shadow? Holy shit, was he really nineteen?

Forcing my eyes away from his well-sculpted body in tight clothes, I looked to Chris and pointed in his direction on the corner of the class. “Mr. Hogan over there will give you a copy of our syllabus and you can take a look before we really start.”

I felt the blue eyes on me every step I would take and it shouldn’t be that flattering, but it was and, fuck, it was so wrong.

“A bunch of you probably just took this class thinking it would be an easy one,” My smile was gone and I tried to look threatening. The looks on the students face told me I didn’t accomplished that. “But I’m telling you, it won’t. As you can see we don’t have that many textbooks and if Mister Hogan would be kind enough to get them in my bag and pass them around, I would be really glad.” Chris raised a brow at me and made his way to my bag. “I expect full reports and drawings at the end of every chapter.”

Looking around the class, I made the mistake to let my eyes fall on Edelman again and he was biting his rosy lower lip and looking back at me, one of his hands resting on his crotch. Swallowing hard and trying not to show how affected I was, I started to move around, looking everywhere, but the boy. “Before we start this class properly, I’d like to talk a bit about myself, so you guys get to know exactly where your professor comes from.” I could see girls and boys smiling and I smiled back.

Well, that moment I knew the handsome teacher card was really the reason behind the class full of students. I was torn between being disappointed or flattered, even though half of those kids would leave and never come back after the classes really started.

On the lowest part of my sight, Edelman had a smirk on his lips apparently amused with something. Why that kid was getting under my skin that bad? Not fair!

“I started my academic career thirteen years ago, here, at the same place you have the privilege of being now. I had the honor of having as my Master’s thesis advisor the last owner of the Human Biology chair in this university, the now retired Dr. Theresa Gallagher. Counting pre-med and med school, I spent eight years here, before moving to Texas Tech to pursue my PhD in Orthopedic Sports Medicine, focusing mainly in how to improve athletes performances on field. Now, here I am. Any questions?” A few hands shot up. “About the class, not about me.” I faked annoyance. Some hands disappeared and I laughed at the class.

“Doctor Amendola?” I didn’t have to look to know who was the owner of the condescending voice, but I did anyway, finally having an excuse to look straight at Edelman and his smug smirk.

“That’d be me,” I smiled politely at him, and pretending I didn’t know exactly who he was, I asked, “And what’s your name?”

“Julian, sir. I’m Julian Edelman. I was just wondering, you’re about, what? Thirty now? Is this your first class? Do you think this may affect our class?”

“I don’t see how this can affect our class, but if you really need to know, no, I’m not thirty. I’m thirty-three and no, this is not my first rodeo. I was a TA back in Texas and spent a semester teaching residents. Enough?” He cocked his head and ran a hand through his hair before nodding. Strangely, I felt satisfied with his approval.

A couple questions later, I was deliberately not looking at Edelman and trying not to look disappointed with the students obviously trying to impress me showing knowledge they probably had gathered from the Wikipedia page. I cut them and explained our first activity. They had half an hour to write in a piece of paper their expectative for the class. Like, what they wanted to know by the end of the semester. Once finished, they should hand the answer to Chris and they’d be free to go.

After the thirty minutes had gone by, I was sitting behind my desk and almost everyone was gone. The only ones still there were Edelman and two girls in the furthest corner of the room that giggled every time I looked in their direction. Annoyed, I looked at Chris, sitting at the last chair of the first row. Furrowing my brows, I nodded my head in the direction of the girls. Over their giggle, I heard Chris sob. He uncrossed his legs and stood up, almost dragging himself towards the girls.

I was laughing at him when Edelman got up and placed a folded piece of paper in front of me. I looked up to say he should’ve had handed the answers to Chris, but his incredibly blue eyes shone with mischief and he bit me to speak.

“Pretty sure this ain’t your first rodeo,” He said in dangerously low tone, making my skin tickle. “And, you know, if it is up to me, it won’t be your last.”

HE FUCKING WINKED AT ME AND LEFT WITHOUT SAYING ANOTHER WORD.

I opened his paper and as soon as I saw what he wrote, I felt my cheeks prickle with heat. Closing it, I shoved it inside my bag before Chris had the chance to see it.

FUCK ME…

Chris voice startled me, “What’s wrong Danny?”

I looked around and the girls were gone. I didn’t even notice. “Nothing man,” I answered weakly. “I think I might need to eat something and another coffee. Could you get me something salty to eat? I have to go over the answers.”

“Of course, but next time slow down with the alcohol, okay?” He said, smiling.

“I’m never drinking again,” I mocked.

“Yeah, I believe you!” He shouted from the door.

As soon as he left the room, I let my head fall back and I groaned loudly. Fuck, my pants were uncomfortably tight and I couldn’t help but take the paper out to read it again.

The messy handwriting said ‘By the end of the semester I expect to be fully acquainted with Dr. Amendola riding experience, since this class is not his first rodeo. I would also thoroughly enjoy learning how to ride him real good.’

So much for being a good teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swear on the pool parties I go that next chapter is longer than this!


	3. Troublemaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter has heavy writing involved, so I thought maybe I could give some angst before going to the good stuff.  
> For those interested my phone is back #yeeys

To say my classes were ruined was an understatement. I was stuck, looking for a blonde, cocky wide receiver in every single class I had that day, what was a really fucked up thing to do, ‘cause there was no way Edelman was going to be in my Human Anatomy class, destined to Pre-Meds. That didn’t stop me looking around and hoping to see his face.

The next morning brought me office hours and I was going over the students' answers, when Tony stopped by and asked me if I wanted to have lunch. He showed me a small pizza place he claimed to have the best pepperoni pizza ever and I just walked with him, listening half-heartedly his complaining about new students.

I was instantly enamored with the pizza place. So cozy and so alike an Italian Cantina, with an amazing smell of natural tomatoes sauce. Small pictures of a big Family in a farm in Toscana were hanging on the red walls, which matched the checkered fabric of the table sheets and the cloths, making the place my absolutely favorite thing about the city.

We were still awaiting for a waiter to take our orders, when Welker appeared out of nowhere, wearing a Charcoal suit and smiling sweetly. I had been so focused on not slipping and giving into Edelman, I forgot completely about my plan to get to know the professor.

He sat with us and talked non stop about how his undergrads were kinda dumb. Honestly, it was a huge turn-off finding out he was that self-centered and keeping my interested face up became hard. Tony, the fucker, was clearly trying to hide his laughter, but Welker was entertaining himself enough that he would never notice, not even when Tony excused himself to the bathroom and it became clear he was laughing his ass off.

“I heard you got Edelman too,” He said over a glass full of a weird as shit drink he ordered. I only nodded, not trusting myself to say anything with the way my body insisted in shivering every time I heard that name. “Is he being a pain in the ass in your class?”

No, But I wi-

“Naah, we only had a class,” I answered looking down at my own glass, afraid my eyes would give in my thoughts.

“I had a four-hour long class with him and let me tell you, he’s a smartass,” Welker laughed and I followed him almost unenthusiastically. “He seems to be a good student though. He asked questions, took notes and even participated the discussion we had about leadership in a Company, can you believe?”

I was about to say I did believe that, when the door opened, ringing the bell over it. Since I was facing the door, there was no way I could’ve missed him entering.

“Speaking of the devil,” I mumbled as Edelman walked in, followed by three other boys. Their sizes would have been enough to tell me they were football players, but they also had their Golden Flashes jackets on.

Edelman spotted me before I could even think of hiding and that brought a serious problem to the surface: I didn’t have it in me to reprehend him for his assignment, nor even to turn him in. Deep down I knew I needed that wanking material and that if he wasn’t my student, I really wouldn’t care if he was nineteen and I’d fuck him senseless.

“Professor Welker,” Edelman stopped beside our table and his friends walked passed him to the furthest table possible. He was not smirking, nor looking horny, his face was drop-dead serious and it was kind of hot. He looked like a grown-up man, the kind I’d pick up in a bar. “Dr. Amendola.”

“Hi Mister Edelman,” Welker said offering him a hand, which he took and shook briefly.

“Hey,” I said quietly, watching Edelman extend me his hand. There was no way any other sentence that wasn’t ‘let’s get out of here to somewhere more private’ was going to get out of my mouth under the heavy analyses of those blue eyes. I hissed when his cold hand met mine and for a second, I considered pulling him to my lap and just let him be there for the rest of lunchtime. That wasn’t the grip of a freshman kid, no… That was the firm and secure as only an experienced man could. He retrieved his hand way too quickly, making me disappointed with myself for feeling disappointed for not being able to touch more than just his hand.

“The first review is due to tomorrow, right?” Edelman asked and I was starting to miss his cocky smile.

“Yes… Any problems just ask Chr- I mean, Mister Hogan.” Welker attempted poorly to cover his laugh. “What?” I looked at him with a mockingly annoyed expression on my face. “He helped Theresa write that article!”

“Uhm-, well, I need to go,” Edelman said, catching my attention again. He pointed at his friends and shrugged, before walking towards his boys.

I watched his sexy figure until he pushed one of the players to get a seat. Welker had already started to babble an excuse for laughing, saying I was too good for my own well-being. Tony got back before I had the chance to actually say it wasn’t nice of him to make me look stupid in front of a student.

When we left, I could see Edelman looking me over the window and he seemed disappointed, so I decided I needed to cut whatever was happening by the roots.

The next morning I got to the classroom with forty minutes to spare and I was properly dressed. I needed to show everyone I was a professional and put even more distance between Edelman and I. It was compulsory for him to understand I was way off his limits, so I had to draw the line.  The blue tie over the black button-up and the grey vest might’ve been a tad too much, but I knew I needed that separation as much as he did. Maybe even more.

I wasn’t expecting a single living soul inside the classroom when I got in, so being greeted with a hot ass hugged perfectly by blue running shorts, had me quite surprised. Frozen mid-step into the room, I just stared hard, not even trying to pretend I wasn’t looking and even as guilt washed over me, I couldn’t move my eyes elsewhere.

Edelman was bent over my desk, writing furiously, shifting his weight every once in a while, making that fantastic ass wiggle and completely unsuspicious I was there looking at his powerful thighs, muscular calves and his torso under a long-sleeved white shirt. He had to know what he was doing to me; there was no way it wasn’t on purpose to make me go insane.

“Does your boyfriend know you stare at your students' asses?” His voice, sounding completely pissed-off, got me out of my daydream of walking there and simply having him hard against my desk.

“What?” I blinked slowly, giving me time to take in his words.

He looked over his shoulder still bent and repeated the question, raising an eyebrow.

Time to be professional, even though I just had been caught staring at his ass.

“First, could you, please, stand straight?” I started using my firm voice. He snorted and cleaning his hands on his shorts, stood up and turned in my direction. “Second, Mister Edelman, I don’t think your posture here has been appropriate.”

“Oh, really?! And could you enlighten me on what would be appropriate? Like, is it staring at your ass ok?” He asked wryly, and it was so infuriating to watch him all condescending, having to remind myself I couldn’t slap, nor kiss him ‘till he couldn’t remember why he decided it was a nice idea to argue with me. Perhaps, the worst was the fact that he was right.

“You know what? I could list a thousand behaviors and actions that would be alright inside this classroom,” My legs were moving on its own accord, breaking the freezing spell that was cast on me and fuck, felt so good to show him he didn’t have the upper hand. “But I think you know what’s right and what’s not, you’re a big boy.”

“Yeah, I sure am. That also means I’m legal,” He moved towards me in a powerful stride. We stopped a foot apart from each other in the middle of the classroom.

“It doesn’t matter.” I was starting to see red. I had no idea what the fuck was happening, but I was pretty sure that the world could fall in blazing flames and I wouldn’t look away from his unfairly blue eyes.

“No?” Edelman cocked his head and furrowed his brows. “Your boyfriend seemed to think I’m a threat, or he wouldn’t have been an asshole yesterday.”

Boyfriend? What the fuck?

“Listen, I have no idea of what you’re talking about, but you wouldn’t be a threat to any potential boyfriend. You’re nineteen, kid.” I pointed the obvious. Why would he think I was susceptible to his advances? I knew he was hot and that he was getting under my skin, but I couldn’t – I wouldn’t give in.

“Wow, harsh… I like that,” Then the cocky smirk was back and what the hell? “So no boyfriend? I’ll have to fight him too…” He seemed to be talking to himself as if I wasn’t there.

“I won’t lose my job because a student thinks he can fuck the hot professor!”

“You saying I can’t?” He stepped closer and I was so mad, I didn’t even realize, just kept staring him. “I think I can,” Edelman lowered his voice ‘till it was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m a pretty good lay and you’ll find out I’m even better at getting people to want to fuck me, Professor Amendola.”

The way he said my name faltered my will and sent a pulse of desire mixed with rage down my body. I fucking told them!

“Don’t. Call. Me. Professor!”

I grabbed him by the collar and the fucker smirked harder.

“Whatever you want, Professor!”

Against all the voices in my head screaming I shouldn’t, I was one step away of kissing him right there, when a noise coming from outside the classroom, startled me. I let his collar go forcefully and said, “I apologize for my behavior and it’s not going to happen again.” Putting some space between us, I looked him in the eyes as seriously as I could.

“I actually liked it,” Edelman winked.

“Look, I don’t want you to get in trouble. I’ll let that go, but you’ll never, ever, do something like that again. Are we clear?” I walked past him towards my desk. “You don’t want to be on my bad side.”

“Does that side involve spanking? ‘Cause I’ll consider.” Edelman sounded so smug, I considered going back on my decisions and really spanking him.

 “Ah Mister Edelman, please don’t make this semester harder,” I sat on my chair and put my bag on my desk, before looking at him again. He was rubbing his neck and biting his lower lip. It was so hot to see his shorts tented and I couldn’t deny I was having trouble not walking over and ending his misery there. However, I couldn’t and sadly, I had to take the higher road there.

“Don’t think that’s possible professor.” He looked at his problem then back at me and sprawled himself on the same chair he was last class, just to give me a clear view of the show he was putting up.

“Just, don’t,” I said unable to look away. I was so mad at myself. Since when did I turn into a pervert?

“Why not?” He stroked himself over the fabric of his shorts and fucking moaned. Unfortunately, for me, I was hard like I hadn’t been for what felt like a decade, so my mind made sure to offer me a thousand images of things I could do to hear that sound again, right there.

Closing my eyes and having trouble to breathe, the only thing I could do was pray for a miracle and in that moment, maybe, someone out there heard my pleas, ‘cause the door opened and Chris walked in, forcing Edelman to stop and hide his erection with his bag.

I had the worst class ever that day. Almost no students got a single shit about the article and the ones who understood the general idea kept it to themselves. Edelman though seemed to dominate the subject, making Chris really proud. In a certain point, he even asked, directly to Chris, if it would be ‘appropriate’ to approach the article using the antithesis offered by the view of other article written by another professor.

My TA positively beamed, babbling non-stop about how his article had a new approach that the said professor didn’t have. However, I was a lost cause, the word ‘appropriate’ repeating in my mind over and over.

Sincerely, appropriate would be not being his teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I'm going to start to come up with random endnotes like "it shouldn't rain as much as it does here in Brazil," or "Why Can't I stop listening to Past Lives by Borns?"


	4. Just say you feel (The way that I feel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dare you not to sing the rest of the song if you know it.  
>   
> And if you don't, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zuIciiAgOAc.  
>   
> Also, if dislike sex scenes jump this chapter.

That Thursday I got an email from Dr. McDaniels reminding me of the Welcoming Gala and the fact that was mandatory for every faculty member to be there. I didn’t want to spend my Saturday night in a room full of snob Ph.D.’s battling to see who had the biggest ego, but Tony texted me ‘The black tuxedo pack has recruited you. You’re one of us. Don’t disappoint me’.

It was going to be fun, ‘cause if Tom got my phone number to send me a message that said ‘Black bowtie and white shirt, the rest is self-explanatory. 8 o’clock don’t be late. See ya, Italian Stallion.’, something had to happen.

I had to shop for a new tuxedo on Friday afternoon, but then again, Tony kept texting it was going to be worthy. Therefore, 8 o’clock sharp, I was at the campus in a slim tuxedo and all of the requirements Tom had made over messages.

I was right on point with the image I painted. Men in suits and women wearing beautiful dresses, speaking so politely, I didn’t feel like I belonged there.

Greeting a few familiar faces, mainly professors in my department, I tried to find one of the boys for almost half an hour and was unlucky. The seats with their names were empty, only their jackets were there.

After talking to a few people, Chris and Dr. McDaniels included, I spotted Tom without his tuxedo jacket, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen’s door. He mouthed “your jacket,” quite frantically and I cocked an eyebrow in doubt. That was when a woman’s hand touched my shoulder. I turned to see the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, and I had seen my fair share of beautiful women, in a tight long black dress and golden high heels.

“Your jacket on your chair, then kitchen. Now, go!” She’s whispered authoritatively, then she was gone and I watched her blonde curls move around the faculty members.

Of course, the only thing I was able to do was to follow her orders. I located my chair and placed my tux jacket over it. Smiling to an old woman, I didn’t know the name, I walked ‘till I was beside Tom.

Before I could say anything, Tom shoved me inside the kitchen. “That was Gisele, my wife,” it made sense. “She’s sacrificing herself for us. Now, go!”

“What the hell is happening Tom?” I asked avoiding waiters dressed pretty much like us.

“Gala sucks, stallion, but it’s easier to leave earlier if you look like one of the waiters!” He said when we reached a door on the back of the room and I got why they named themselves – well, actually, us – the black tuxedo pack. He placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled like a young boy about to do something bad. “People have seen you there, right?” I nodded once, having no idea what murderous thoughts were passing through his head. “Then welcome to the best Gala you’ll ever be at, like, for the rest of your life.”

He walked past the door and I followed him closely. It was dark behind the building and a warm breeze grazed us. All of the eight men that were on the bleachers were there, plus a tall black man I had seen around before. They were leaning against three golf carts and Ryan was sitting on Gatorade cooler.

“There he is!” Eli ruffled my hair and walked around a cart. “Let’s go before Peyton tries to find me!” Then he started his cart, Smith and Phillip, the professor I kept trying to remember the name, jumped in and they left.

“Where’s Rob? We’re missing a man here,” Tom said, while Ryan offered me a bottle of those sweet alcoholic drinks.

I took a seat on the cart Tony was and heard the man I didn’t know answer Tom. “He’s there, Tommy. Rob got us all in.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Tell me this is not a dream, Randy!” Welker asked, sitting by my side. He looked absolutely edible, hair combed back, white button-up opened, revealing a grey Henley and his bowtie nowhere to be seen.

“Not dreaming!” The man said. “Who’s the new one?” He nodded his head in my direction. “Hi, I’m

professor Moss.”

“Oh, Danny boy is our pack’s new acquisition. He’s replacing Theresa in the biomedicine department.” Rodgers said from the passenger side of our cart, drinking from a bottle that looked a lot like mine.

I smiled and nodded at him, while Ryan and Tom lifted the cooler and moved it onto the other cart. Ryan and Tom arranged themselves to secure the cooler and with Moss driving, they left quickly.

“I still have no idea where we’re going,” I said after a while when Tony followed the other cart out of the campus and into a calm street. “Nor who’s Rob…” I undid my bowtie, following Rodgers orders to lose our formal attire.

“Oh Daniel, you’ll be glad we like you,” Tony said. Without taking his eyes off the street, he ran one his hand through his hair making it look a little more natural. Everyone was quiet for almost ten minutes and Tony took a left somewhere I wasn’t sure where it was, but suddenly we were into the woods.

“Rob is the biggest dork you’ll ever meet,” Welker offered his hand to take my button-up, while I fixed my white Henley and placed my suspenders back in. “He’s a junior now and probably the next big NFL star, but he seems to like Tom.”

“And who doesn’t?” I asked, mockingly.

We were far from the room where the Gala was taking place and I still had no idea where we were going, but a heavy beat was getting louder with every passing second.

The first thing I saw was Eli and Randy without their formal clothes and talking to a tall, ripped blonde guy, without his shirt like it was normal. Professor Smith was helping Tom to get the cooler out of the cart. They were in front of a red house with huge windows in the middle of nowhere and loud music was coming from the backyard.

“So, that’s the new Professor?!” The blond guy said when I got out of my cart and from the close distance, I recognized him as the talented Tight End all the NFL teams were talking about, Gronkowski. I was a bit surprised, but then I remembered his name was Rob and felt a bit stupid.

I shook his hand and introduced myself. “It is impossible not to know, dude, everyone is so hooked on you, man.”

Everyone laughed and I was a bit embarrassed, but there was nothing I could do about it, I had become the new joke of the pack.

“Guys, come here!” Rob said louder after Tom and Smith handed in the cooler to two buff guys. “You’re not professors here, alright?” We nodded. “I don’t want reports on us for anything. I know there’s probably illegal shit there, but this is the greatest party ever. I had to cut nine good fellas so you could be in and not even my Quarterback made the cut! So be irresponsible for once, no one will fucking know it.”

I could do that. I could be irresponsible for the night. I fucking deserved a night off for the shitty week I had.

“Today is your day. Phones with the security on your left as soon as you get in. Get ready to be frisked; we don’t want anything dangerous anywhere near our party. Oh… and welcome to the

Gronk party!”

I finished my bottle and followed the guys inside. Since my phone was home, I went straight to one of the guys in black suits to be frisked. The house was dark and a few people were making out inside the spacious room that had been stripped from all of its furniture. Small light signs were on the walls, directing whoever got in, to the huge backyard, with a bar on the left side, a dance floor and about a hundred students drinking and dancing.

“WE’RE STILL WAITING FORTY PEOPLE,” Rob screamed over the song. “AMENDOLA, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”

I looked at Tony beside me as if asking if it was ok. He shrugged and mouthed ‘Go’, so I followed Rob inside, he got into an empty coat closet near the security and pulled me in.

“Whoa! Slow there-” I started, scared of what Rob was thinking.

“No! No! I’m into girls, I swear!” He cut me, still having to talk a bit loud to be heard. “This is your first time in this kind of party. I just want you to know we’re free here. No prejudice, no anything.”

“What?” I asked, cocking a brow. What the fuck was he talking about?

“You have a free pass today and the guys already know it. Shit, Steve is probably hitting a freshman, Rodgers has a fling with a senior for almost 2 years now and I know you’ve been attracting quite a few eyes” He smirked and continued slowly. “Especially a pair of freshman blue eyes.”

Like a lightning to my head, everything Rob was trying to say became clear and sincerely, I was

tempted to take that and scratch the itch that had been under my skin ever since the first time I saw that blonde version of sex on legs. I knew myself very well though, that would be my fall. A one-night stand would be far from enough.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but thanks, I guess,” Pretending to be innocent, I forced a smile and he only shook his head. “I need a drink now. You know, I was promised the best party ever.”

The moment I made back to Tony’s side leaning against the bar, only Tom and Eli were still there. Tony offered me a shot glass full of something I had no idea what it was, but I downed it anyway. I regretted it immediately. Tequila was not exactly the way to start the night if I wanted to keep myself away from certain people.

Five shots in, avoiding students that were throwing themselves at me and talking to a couple football players, I wish I could say I did not look for him, but I’d be lying.

“HE’S THERE!” Tony screamed over a Latin music the kids seemed to like, pointing to my left. When I saw Welker not too far, I thought maybe Tony had believed in the best of me and that I had let Edelman go. But, no. It took me a few seconds to realize the shirtless hottie grinding against Welker was the devil himself, in tight jeans and a black baseball hat. His eyes met mine the exact moment I was able to look up from his broad shoulders and muscled chest. He bit his lower lip, grinding harder against Welker.

Fuck, it was hot! Divided between wanting to be the one he was grinding against and being in the middle of them, I took another shot and had to go back inside the house to get away from the scene. I wasn’t strong enough and the couples making out hard against the walls were not much of a help to stop the fire burning through my veins.

I went to the same closet Gronkowski and I had talked, to clear my head and to find a way to deal with a boner that didn’t make me feel even dirtier.

“Had enough, old man?” Edelman got in two minutes after me and locked the door after him.

Inhaling slowly, I fought the part of me that wanted me to forget my reason and just fuck him. “Mister Edelman, open the door,” Instead of doing as I said, he walked towards me slowly and I move backward ‘till I hit a wall.

“Call me Julian,” He kept moving and I couldn’t get away. Julian didn’t stop till his body was completely pressed against mine. My head was screaming I couldn’t, but my body was electrified with the way he felt. I turned my head, trying to resist him, even though I knew I was two steps away from sinning. I felt his lips on my earlobe and shivered. “You have a free pass tonight, Professor.”

The fucking ‘professor’ was what undid me.

I snapped my head in his direction, my hands flew to his ass and I hoisted him up. His legs wrapped around my waist, his hands buried in my hair and he smelled incredibly good, clean sweat and something spicy. I turned us around and pressed him against the wall. He smirked like he knew I was going to do that, so I kissed him hard and made his smirk disappear.

He was extremely experienced for a nineteen and, fuck, he made delicious noises through our open-mouthed kisses. His tongue met mine in a sinful dance, which had both of us hard.

“Shit,” He murmured when we broke the kiss to breathe. I was feeling so smug, seeing Edelman thoroughly debauched just from kissing me even though a part of me was yelling that shit was wrong. “This might not be a good idea.”

I froze and my hands fell from his ass. Instead of getting away, his legs hugged my waist even harder and he spread little kisses on my mouth and neck.

“You have to stop doing that if you think this is not a good idea, Mister Edelman. I won’t be able to control myself.” I finally said, my voice hoarse and my hands trembling with the need to be on his body again.

“That’s the goal here, professor.” He said before sucking the curve of my neck hard enough to leave a mark and making me groan. “The problem is, I have nothing on me,” his mouth kissed its way up my earlobe. “And only this,” he bit me and I fucking shivered, “is not going to be enough.”

He was so fucking right.

“I can’t give you what you want,” I whispered against his mouth. I was almost sure Edelman whimpered in disappointment.

“So, let me have those kisses one more time,” I couldn’t deny him and we kissed again. My hands were up to explore his body and the sound he made when I pinched one of his nipples would haunt me through my whole life.

We only stopped the kiss when someone knocked hard on the door. “JULES ARE YOU THERE?” a girl asked. He shook his head and screamed he was. I laughed against the bare skin of his shoulder and started to suck the skin on his chest, leaving a red path on his collarbone.

“DUDE, WELKER IS LOOKING FOR YOU.”

He groaned and untangled his legs from my waist. “Guess this is where we say goodbye, huh?” I said, my head still dizzy from our kisses and still rock hard.

“I’m not done with you,” He recomposed himself and walked to the door. “I will be the best lay you’ll ever have, Professor.”

“I’m sure you’ll try, Mister Edelman,” I answered playfully, knowing he wouldn’t give up and that since I had a taste of how his kisses felt, I would probably give in.

I left the closet ten minutes after him, looking more miserable than when I got in. I stopped beside Tom and Tony, looking around but nor Welker, nor Edelman were anywhere to be seen.

“HAPPY?” Tony asked when he saw the hickey on my neck.

I spent twenty restless minutes beside Tony, sipping beer from a red solo cup until Welker popped up by my side. I felt my guts clenching in rage, knowing he was the one that got me out of free pass moment, even though I should probably thank him for stopping me.

“SHIT,” He said loudly next to my ear. “WHY THAT BOY IS PLAYING SO HARD TO GET?”

“WHO?” I asked, faking innocence and trying to hide my smugness. Julian had said no to Welker advances and had practically thrown himself on me.

Still got it.

“EDELMAN,” He said, ordering a shot of a heavy mix of Tequila and flavored Vodka.

“A STUDENT? REALLY WES, EVEN YOU?” Tony said, leaning back against the bar to listen our talk.

“COME ON, HE IS THE HOTTEST GUY HERE, MAN.” Welker shrugged and I couldn’t hold

the laughter.

Looking away from the dance floor, I turned my eyes to a confused Welker. “EDELMAN, PLAYING HARD TO GET? I CAN’T BELIEVE. YOU WERE ALMOST ONE ON THE DANCE FLOOR.”

“MAN, I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING.” His hands were messing his hair in a frustrated gesture. “HE SAYS HE HAS HIS EYES ON SOMEONE ELSE AND THAT NO ONE ELSE WOULD DO TONIGHT.” I looked away and bit my lower lip, trying to contain my body’s reaction. Shit, the fucker wasn’t even there and I could hear his voice saying ‘Professor’.

“SINCERELY, WHICH STUDENT WOULD BE BETTER THAN ME?” Welker continued listing the reasons why Edelman should pick him instead of a student. Even through the darkness, I could see Tony rolling his eyes in boredom. Not even Welker’s looks would be enough to make him attractive that moment. Then he stopped speaking and just plastered on a sexy smile on his lips. I cocked a brow and he nodded towards somewhere over my shoulder.

Edelman smirked the moment my eyes fell on him, the memory of his debauched figure making me weak on the knees. Wiggling his brows, he ran a finger over his neck on the exact place where he had left the hickey on mine. My left hand shot up almost immediately to cover the evidence of what we did. I turned away to look everywhere, but Edelman.

Welker was smiling as Julian behavior was destined to him, too self-centered to realize the boy only started to joke when I turned to look at him or that my hand was grazing almost fondly a hickey.

Not satisfied with smiling to a guy who didn’t want to be with him, Welker walked past me to talk to Edelman. Tony stayed exactly where he was, wide-eyed, to judge me for my mistakes.

“THAT,” He pointed to my neck, “WAS-?”

“I DON’T KISS AND TELL,” I attempted weakly to joke, with a faux-smile on my lips. His face was an unreadable mask.

“FUCK DANNY, I TOLD YOU TO STAY THE FUCK AWAY!”

“WHY THOUGH? WE HAVE A FREE PASS HERE, RIGHT?” I asked frustrated. He was okay with his other fellas fucking students and not me. Fuck him!

“OH GOD…” Tony rubbed his face disappointed. “ARE YOU BLIND? IS IT NOT CRYSTAL CLEAR?” I shrugged, obviously without a clue of what he was talking. “BUDDY, THAT BOY IS NOT LETTING GO TILL HE GETS WHAT HE WANTS AND YOU’RE GOING TO BE A FUCKING WRECK.”

I shook my head in disbelief. There was no fucking way I had misread the whole thing. Edelman was not going to get what he wanted. I couldn’t and he knew that.

Then I really looked at Tony. His face was impassive, but his arms were beside him, stilled, and his hands were tight fists.

“OH GOD, YOU- OH…” He only nodded. “I’M SORRY.”

“SHE’S JUST A GOOD MEMORY NOW,” Tony got closer and I could see the sadness in his eyes “SINCERELY, GO GET THE BOY AND JUST LEARN THE HARD WAY.”

“DUDE, I WON’T GIVE IN.” I lied to myself and to Tony, looking at Edelman clearly dissing Welker. I didn’t even try to contain the smile spreading on my lips. The boy locked eyes with me and nodded towards the house, making me so hot I regretted immediately the words I had just said.

“JUST MAKE IT COUNT!” Tony said before Welker got close enough. I nodded embarrassingly, knowing before Welker got close enough.

He was waiting for me on top of the stairs and I stood at the bottom, drinking in his gorgeous figure under the deem lights, biting his lower lip and ogling me without caring if people would see. Edelman entered the hallway and I sprinted upstairs, following him into a room.

As soon as I locked the door behind me, we were kissing again. Shit, I had missed those lips and fuck, Tony was right, I was going to hurt, but I’d be dead before I could deny my body his touches. I got rid of my shoes and so did he.

Hoisting him up without breaking our kiss, I moved blindly through the room, trying to find the bed in the darkened room. We stumble onto the bed laughing and his hat fell somewhere we didn’t care enough to look. “Rob said they have stuff on the nightstand,” he said from underneath me, caressing my hair. “Now bring your sexy self here.” And I was glad to kiss and touch him again.

“You’re a teaser,” I said against his shoulder blade in between kisses.

“Me? Ne-” Edelman’s sentence ended in moan when I bit one of his nipples a little too harsh. “Fuck…”

He pursued to get rid of my suspenders and Henley and we were skin on skin. No one, ever, had felt that good, his nails digging hard into my back and legs pulling me closer by the waist. I was close to coming in my pants like an eager teenage and the prospect of what we were about to do didn’t help at all.

“Shit, I can’t-, I need more, Danny.” The way he sounded so wrecked saying my name should be a record and win awards for the most incredible music ever. Even though I was starving for him as much as seemed to need me, Edelman needed to pay for making me so reckless and break college rules.

“Weren’t you going to be the best lay I’d have ever had?” I sat on my legs and, smiling smugly, undid his fly. Edelman fucking threw his head back and hissed in pleasure. “I was kind of hoping you’d put your money where your mouth is.”

“I want to see you put your mouth on me,” He tried to get his jeans off, but I batted his hands away and slowly pulled them off. I got back kissing his legs and he fucking screamed when I sucked hard the inner part of his right leg just before his boxers. I nuzzled his hard on over the fabric before removing it. His cock sprung free and fuck, it was beautiful! Not extremely large, but thick, making my mouth water.

Something hit my shoulder and fell onto the bed, getting me out of my admiration state. I looked to see a small bottle of lube and I didn’t have to raise my eyes to know Edelman was smiling. “You might need it, professor.”

My skin prickled with anticipation and I kissed my way up to his crotch. He tasted as good as he smelled, but instead of sucking him straight away, I took my time. Sucking his balls, licking his shaft and the underside his head. By the time I swallowed him, he was a sobbing mess and fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

“FUCK!” Edelman screamed when my lubed index finger touched his hole carefully. Circling his hole till he relaxed, I sucked him hard. When I felt he was lose, I inserted my index finger to the knuckle and he hissed. “More,” he groaned after a while and I added a second finger, twisting them to open him up. I found his prostate pretty quick and the symphony of moans went straight to my cock and I, myself, was moaning with his cock deep my throat. 

I was three fingers in and pumping quickly when I heard him say, “I need you, Danny, just fuck me!” and I never got rid of pants that quickly. He tossed me a condom and I tore the package. “Fuck, you’re big!” Edelman sounded so eager while watching me rolled the latex on and I couldn’t help, but feel smug. “Come on, old man. I want you!”

I threw his legs over my shoulders, before applying more lube onto my cock and guiding myself to his hole. I trusted slowly into him and the only thing I could think was how hot he felt, and that I couldn’t come like that, without moving like a virgin.

“MOVE!” He ordered after a few moments after I was balls-deep into him. Sincerely, it took us some time to find the right rhythm, but once we did, Hell on earth wouldn’t be enough to drag me away. I knew I was going to have trouble to stay away in a near future, but shit, the way my kisses devoured his moans every time I hit his prostate was worthy. Sneaking a hand between us, I stroked him in rhythm with my thrusts.

“Julian,” The first time I called him by his first name, it was with my voice hoarse, against his neck, pleasure controlling me. I wanted him to come first to give him as much pleasure as he was giving me, but it was proving to be a herculean task with every passing second.

“Just don’t stop, I’m almost there.” He said, breathing hard. “Say my name again!” And I moaned his name, building my climax. He came that instant, shouting my name and fuck I just let go and came with him.

Rolling out of him, I fell onto my back beside him. “Fuck! That was hot.” I admitted, trying to regain my breath.

“You’re so good, old man.” He said with his eyes still closed. I was smiling when I got up, looking for a switcher to turn the lights on. By the time I had turned the light on, Edelman was beside the trash can and had managed to clean his come from his stomach, to put his boxers, that I found out that moment were dark blue and was putting on his jeans.

“You were not that smug five minutes ago,” I said, walking slowly towards him and taking in his appearance. He looked thoroughly fucked, with messy hair, rosy lips swollen by my kisses and a giant hickey on his shoulder blade.

He cleaned his come from my stomach with a tissue he fished off the nightstand and disposed it on the trash before tracing my chest with his fingertips, “We might need to repeat this pretty soon.”

I shook my head and hugged his waist, needing to be close while I could. “You know it ain’t happening again.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he wrapped his arms around my neck and smirked. “This was good. Shit, it was incredibly amazing! Tell me it wasn’t and I won’t bother you ever again.”

I looked into his blue eyes and bit my lower lip. “It wasn’t that good,” and even to my ears, it sounded like a lie.

“Now say it like you mean it.” Edelman had that smirk on again and if I was ten years younger, I would be ready for a second round.

“I can’t.” 

Knowing that I was telling the truth, was fucked up in so many levels, I couldn’t begin to explain. He would never know about it, but if that was not the best sex I ever had, it was top three easily. Shit, he was nineteen. That had to say something about me.

Edelman kissed me almost chastely on the lips, before untangling us and taking his cap from the floor next to the bed. “See you downstairs. I’d wait at least fifteen minutes.” Then he walked to the door and winking at me, he left.

Admiring the amazing paint of red scratches and black hickeys Edelman had left on my chest, I lazily started to fish my clothes that were scattered around the room. I had just put the suspenders back in place, when the door opened again, startling me, even though there was no one there and I could lie about who was there with me or even the reason behind me being there.

Rob’s head popped into the room, a knowing smile on his lips. He gave me a thumbs-up and nodded for me to follow him. I made my way to the backyard talking to him and a lovely ginger girl.

I saw Gisele, Tony’s wife, Candice, and a short cute Blonde, I assumed to be Eli’s spouse, before I could see the guys. And how could I not see three incredibly beautiful women in dresses way too fancy for that place. I wondered briefly what had happened to our tuxedo jackets, but I found out I was too happy to give a shit about it.

Tom patted my shoulder when I got closer. “EVEN DANNY GOT LAID TONIGHT WELKER, STOP MOURNING ABOUT THE REDWOOD KID AND GO GET SOME!” He said laughing. As soon I saw Welker pouting, I couldn’t help but laugh along.

“COME ON, IT’S A MATTER OF GETTING MY HONOR BACK!” Welker walked until he was by my side. “NOW TELL US, WHO LEFT THAT ON YOUR NECK?”

Oh, if only he knew.

“YOU SHOULD SEE MY CHEST,” I said, waving to one of the bartenders to get a beer. “I DON’T KISS AND TELL.” Tony snorted at me, repeating myself.

“LOOK AT HIM, WITH A FUCKING HICKEY ON HIS SHOULDER BLADES. I WANT TO CONGRATULATE THE LUCKY MOTHERFUCKER THAT GOT TO DO IT.” I had to smirk at Welker’s words. “I BET I WOULD BE BETTER.”

“OH, I DON’T KNOW THAT WES. HE SEEMS PRETTY PLEASED WITH HIMSELF!” Gisele said and for the first time, I realized she had a strong accent. I could kiss the woman that moment.

Looking at Julian, he really looked truly happy, drinking with his buddies and sporting the huge hickey I left on his shoulder blade. It was hard not to feel smug.

“STOP BEING SUCH A SORE LOSER!” Tony cut Welker before he could say anything else.

I left the party an hour and a half later, having watch Julian turn down Welker twice more and having to lie at least four times about the hickey on my neck. I‘d have to google ways of getting rid of a hickey, but, man, I had scratched that itch and it felt so good.

Well, at least for that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess where's raining again?  
> Plus, I told y'all it would be a huge chapter.


	5. That boy is Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? Back Again?  
>   
> Sadly not Shady. Just me and another chapter.

After spending the whole Sunday putting ice on the hickeys Edelman had left on me and embarrassingly having to buy a new toothbrush to brush against it, on Monday morning, it looked a like a bad rash and not like Dracula had taken his sweet time with me. I was lucky enough that my chest was very well covered or the art kids would have pegged me for a painting, and a very colorful one. I was never particularly fond of Polo shirts, but leaving home without any cover for my neck would be kinda weird giving my situation.

Three hours with my lab Students and I was convinced I was safe.

Edelman, though, was having a field day showing his hickey around, or so I heard a group of girls saying on my way out of the classroom. As if I hadn’t been regretting my decision enough, the kid still had to be reckless about things that could go wrong for us both. At least the girls didn’t seem to know that I was the one that had left that mark there.

Half an hour into my office hours, sitting on a comfortable chair and staring at my carefully organized bookshelf, I couldn’t help but think how Tony and even myself were wrong thinking I was going to be a wreck. It had been a day and a half and I was regretting badly my choices. I’d blame it on the booze and never, ever, let myself be alone with that kid again – It might have been a shitty decision, that didn’t make the fucker any less hot.

I was deciding what to do with myself regarding my necessity to fuck Edelman again and how to deal with my body when the abstinence crisis hit me when I got a text from Tom saying ‘We’re having an intervention today and we might need you.’

What could have possibly happened that they needed me to help was beyond human comprehension, ‘cause there was no way something had gone that wrong since I left the party. ‘Office hours till three.’ I texted him back, pinching my nose bridge in discomfort.

“Trouble in Paradise?” Chris’ voice pulled me out of my thoughts, his smile a reassuring place amidst all the craziness of the last few day. The fact he brought cappuccino also helped to enjoy him a bit more.

“You can’t possibly begin to understand,” I said, while he took a seat on the chair in front of me. My phone buzzed again, “Just a second buddy.” Brady answer was simple ‘3:20. Bleachers.’ And the moment I thought of answering, I got another of his messages. ‘Oh, Rodgers has your jersey.’

“What happened man?”

“Shit went down on Saturday,” I sipped the warm cappuccino.

“How could?” Chris leaned against my desk and rested his chin on his hands. “I saw you at the Gala – Wait,” It was physically visible the moment he realized I never spent more than half an hour there. “Does McDaniels know that?”

I shook my head, “I’d be a dead man by now, don’t you think? No, it was after I left. I’m almost

convinced I made some bad decisions.”

“So, that shit on your neck is a hickey, innit?”

“That obvious?” I asked, afraid I hadn’t done a good job of hiding the mark.

“Nah… But savage, huh?” He laughed and I shook my head mockingly reprehending him. Chris pushed himself to sit straight and fished the reviews of the Human Biology class inside his backpack.

The hour and half that followed was filled with endless and almost stupid things the students had written. Edelman’s review, different from ninety percent of his classmates, was brilliant and concise, making Chris glad someone understood his ideas. I wouldn’t admit under heavy torture, but I was proud of him that moment.

“Can you lock the room?” I asked when my phone buzzed with a text precisely 3 P.M. “Brady needs me.”

“Sure, but why does Brady need you that much?” He asked, leaning over the last review.

“Sincerely?” I took my messenger bag from behind my chair. “No Idea! He just said we’re having an intervention.” Grabbing my phone, I saw the text I had received was from Tony, asking to call me. “And now even Tony is texting me.”

Saying goodbye, I left the building almost running. I called Tony on my way to the field and the prospect of seeing Edelman again made me reconsider my decision of helping. I was fairly sure my body would react instantly to his presence, gravitating towards him like a comet going straight for the sun.

Tony’s voice full of worry through the line dismissed all my second-guessing about my presence there. I wasn’t worried about being the one suffering the intervention, they wouldn’t ask for my help. But Tony said Welker had crossed the line and I was instantly scared for Edelman and what Welker could do to his academic career or his NFL’s shot.

“Have you guys noticed that for grown men with Ph.D.’s, we hang out an awful lot around the bleachers?” Ryan was asking to the group when I got there, 10 minutes early. Only Tony, Rodgers and Smith were there with him and they all seemed to agree with him. My laughter gave away that I was listening to them.

“So what the hell happened that we are here on a Monday afternoon?” I asked, dropping myself beside Rodgers.

“Welker being nuts is the reason,” Rodgers started, contemplating the few football players already there. “He says he’s going for the kid, he doesn’t care if he’s nineteen.”

There were a thousand things running through my mind that moment. Shit, things were happening too fast. What the hell Welker was thinking? He met the kid a week ago! Not even I that had slept with Edelman was that insane. It was also kinda funny; Edelman was clearly not into him. A voice in the depths of my head made sure to repeat ‘He’s into you’ very clearly.

“Edelman’s clearly infatuated by Danny boy,” Eli said, coming from the field, holding an ice cream and smiling like a little boy. That was enough to make my stomach drop in fear.

“Relax Danny, We all know,” Smith said with a reassuring smile. “I was using the room next to yours. Ryan here,” He high-fived Ryan and even Tony was smiling, “was inside the house with his chick. No one else knows, I swear. Just Tom and us.”

I relaxed a bit, those guys were not exactly my friends yet, except maybe for Tony, but they were the closest thing to it I had there. They would never report me.

“Oh, man,” Rodgers opened his messenger bag, took something and tossed at me. Inside the plastic was a well-folded jersey. “Ryan told me your number back in your college days.”

“Try it!” Ryan said and for a minute, I forgot why we were really there, feeling welcomed and part of something. Sam would be proud of me, starting to make true connections. Absented-mindedly, I pulled off my shirt, only to be reminded by the hisses and wows of the state of my chest.

“Did you fuck the Wolverine?” Eli asked. All of them were in various states of disbelief. I quickly put on the blue jersey to cover the bruises and scratches.

“Oh fuck,” I mumbled, looking down and burying my face in my hands, flush creeping down from my cheeks to my neck.

“I know you did,” Smith said, making the guys laugh.

Busying myself with shoving my polo inside my messenger bag, I was saved from more embarrassment by Tom’s arrival, followed by the rest of the group, except for Welker.

“We have twenty minutes till Welker is here and a major problem to solve,” Tom started after everyone had sat down. “How can we talk some sense into that blond head?”

Ten minutes later, apparently, all Kent football players were on the field and shirtless Edelman caught my eye. I had predicted the hot want flooding my body, but not that strongly. He was there, scratching the purple mark on his shoulder, visible from where I was, and talking to a group of boys that I knew had been at the party.

Looking at his gorgeous body move around and stretch, I had an epiphany. If I, wasn’t that committed to anything other than refraining myself from having sex with that kid again, was having trouble standing near him, Welker would go through hell.

“Guys, isn’t it, I dunno, a bit dangerous to bring Welker here, while Edelman is, well, shirtless on the field?”

“That’s the goal, loverboy,” Eli answered, toying with his ice cream scoop. “We need to show him what torture feels like. If Wes realizes he can’t torture himself like that for God knows how much time it will take to get over of this ridiculous crush, maybe he lets Edelman go.”

I nodded, acknowledging his reason, but internally, as I looked back at the Wide Receiver, screaming that the idea had been stupid. No one would ever lay eyes on that body and then let it go, ‘cause, shit, it was worth the torture. I could see why someone would fall in lust, but giving up a lifetime work for a body was unthinkable. Even if the sex was amazing, but that Welker had no way of knowing that.

When Welker got there, we were all ready for his outbreak, so we let Tom take the lead, considering they had been best friends ever since Welker got himself into the faculty staff.

“Wes, you know why we here.”

Welker took off his sunglasses and looked at the football players, in a clear attempt at finding Edelman. “Don’t even start, Tom!” His voice was low and sounded dangerous.

“Come on, you can’t possibly think what you’re doing is legal! He’s nineteen!” Tom said as exasperated as everyone was feeling.

A weird inquietude was starting to grow inside of me. Why the fuck Welker wanted Edelman so badly? The boy had said no! He wanted me and I could not give what he wanted, but he made clear no one else would do.

“He’s legal, so it doesn’t matter.” Welker shrugged nonchalantly and Tom was way too frustrated to say anything.

“Don’t you remember what happened to me?” Tony asked him.

“Yeah, Tony. But not everyone is Carrie and look at Eli, he’s married to Abby and she was his student.” Tony shook his head in disbelief.

My hands were trembling and I couldn’t understand why I was so angry, Welker would be the one losing his job for being stupid. I had got what I wanted from Edelman, now it was the time to let him ruin someone else. That thought didn’t agree very well with me and suddenly I became aware the whole Welker thing was bothering me ‘cause he simply assumed he and Julian were a thing.

“What about your job? Are you ready to lose it?” Rodgers broke the silence.

“There’s nothing against it on the rules, so we’ll just wait till he’s not my student and we’ll make it official-”

“Make what official?” I exploded; standing up quickly and making everyone stare at me wide-eyed. Tony was shaking his head frantically and mouthing ‘no’ repeatedly, ignoring him I continued. “Welker, I saw you moping around for Edelman at the party and I imagine you spent your Sunday thinking about him, right?” Welker, listening to my words cautiously, nodded affirmatively. I had to come up with a good reason for my outburst or everyone would know about Edelman and I. “Look, as a bisexual guy I can relate,” I looked at him moving around and nodded as if to say ‘I’d hit that’, then looked back at Welker. “But you met this kid last Wednesday and before you can say anything else; do you really think he’s THE one?”

Welker considered for a second and I took the brief moment to throw a reassuring glance to the guys, receiving a quick thumbs-up from Rodgers and a positive nod from Tom, telling me to continue.

“I do,” Welker said, staring his feet.

“Since we’re being frank here, can I tell you something, Wes?” He smiled weakly at me when I said his first name. I was furious inside for making myself say all that shit to Welker, but I was a damn good actor. “I don’t think you’re his one. And I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re not his one, he wouldn’t have dissed you otherwise.”

“He was-, he was just playing hard to get.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than convince us and that was the moment I knew I had won.

“No, he wasn’t. I know for a fact he fucked a guy there. I heard him. He was – uuhm, he was really close to where I was when I went to… erm-.”

“I heard them too,” Smith said backing me up. “They were in the room next to mine and man, he was loud. Ryan saw him running upstairs.”

Welker shook his head in denial. “Danny, what would you do?”

“I was never known for insisting on this kind of stuff, the first no was the last one.” I was being completely honest that moment.

After an awkward minute of silence he started, “I need some time alone… Thank you, Danny.” Welker nodded a goodbye to the guys and left quickly.

I fell back on the bleachers, rubbing my neck. I was exhausted mentally and feeling guilty for lying to someone so vulnerable.

“Fuck Daniel, You’re a keeper.”

I looked at Tony and he was smiling in disbelief.

“Can you do that with kids? Cause if you can, I’m taking you home with me.” Tom said and just like that, all the tension in the air dissipated, making everyone laugh.

“I just told him what he already knew,” I looked at the field again, this time taking my time to analyze all the receiver core.

Twenty minutes later we were back to the guys that where there before Tom arrived.

“For a second I thought you were going to tell Wes about you and Edelman,” Eli said when we were lazily watching the Oklahoma drills. “What you gonna do Loverboy?”

“Don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought about it and I’m not half as devoted as Welker is. Maybe I should feel guilty, but I don’t. I had a free pass and it’s simple like that, I took it. That’s all.”

“I envy you,” Rodgers said. “I wish I could tear apart what it is and what is not.”

“The problem is, I’m gonna torture myself over and over, ‘cause it was really good,” I watched Edelman juke the defender, absorbing every gracious move his body made. It was hard not to give in to my instincts saying that all I had to do was ask and he would fuck me again.

“That’s the hard way bubs,” Tony smiled sadly.

And it was about to get harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rain is gone and obviously, it left me sick :D  
>   
> I think CodeBlue1180 thinks my accent is funny! No Brazilian sound or should sound like me hahahaha'  
>   
> Also, check out Celtic Thunder on Youtube, they're awesome!


	6. If You're The Art, I'll Be The Brush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back on popular demand (not that much)  
> THIS CHAPTER'S BEEN UPLOADED FROM MY PHONE, SO I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES WE DIDN'T SEE.  
> Also, it's Julian POV.  
> We chose to write it to finish the first part of the story and to show what Jules was thinking and feeling.  
> The next two chapters are transitioning chapters, so time passes a bit more quickly.

Most youngsters think they’re it, like, the best thing ever. They think they have all figured out and that future is a certain thing. Not me, though.

I knew who I was and what I wanted. I had a lot of work to do on myself as a person and as a player. The only thing certain about the future was the fact that it was coming.

I wasn’t scared to say I was a cocky badass person! Modesty was a weird thing, but regarding sexual conquers, there was no way I could be humble. I could see the way guys and girls looked at me, so if I wanted, I would get it. And judging by the way everyone kept coming back, I had to assume I was a pretty good lay and there was nothing to be modest about in that.

Amendola was different though. Not ‘cause he was hard to get, hell no! It was way too easy, but for some unknown reason I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

What I really needed was to fuck him and let that go. So I shot him a couple looks and answered the class review and bam! He was on the edge and, unfortunately, so was I.

That had never happened before and it didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous! Squared jaw, 5 o’clock shadow, a constant state of sex-hair, eyes colored like chocolate, a strong body underneath his clothes, and everything I liked in a guy. So of course I was crushing hard on him.

Our night at the party couldn’t have been more incredible, even though Welker was constantly on my ass. I wanted more of Amendola, I needed that body on mine again.

On Monday morning I didn’t care enough to wake up early to go to my classes, so I just appeared for my last class and went straight to practice.

I was entering the field, carrying my shoulder pad in one hand and my helmet on the other, when I saw the professors over their usual spot. There were a few missing still. However, the only one I wanted to see was there.

The blonde dude, I presumed to be Doctor Rodgers, pulled something out of his bag and handed to Amendola. I was curious and moved closer to see what that was and to take a good look at Amendola again.

Of course, it was a fucking Jersey, as if he couldn’t get any hotter.

He was a sight to sore eyes, but shirtless and with my marks all over his chest he had to be the most handsome men alive. I was a possessive dude, no way of denying, but man, I felt like fucking Picasso looking at him.

I had to look away to avoid running over the bleachers and jumping on him right in front of everyone. When I finally gathered the courage to look up again, it was to see him in the jersey.

Holy fuck, he rocked the Jock look. There was no way a dude who didn't play could make a jersey look good. He had to have been player (and I’d have to google him up).

Practice was going alright, we ran routes and I chatted with the boys almost absent-mindedly about the party, but for the first time ever I caught myself wishing it would go faster, so I could go back to my dorm and look up Amendola.

I was thinking about starting an archive to save his pictures and use it later, when I heard yells coming from where the professors were. I look away from the boys and I was rewarded with the sight of Amendola all but in Wes’ face. Was he telling Welker about us?

We couldn't hear what he was saying, but the boys kept saying things like, “dude Amendola will beat the crap out of Welker,” and I wished I could get closer to know what was going on there. It didn't matter though, ‘cause a fight was still fucking hot, especially if Amendola decided to beat the crap out of Welker because of me. What he would do to the guys I fucked? I would pay money to watch that.

He was killing me, with that entire pose and the blue Jersey, fuck he had to know what he was doing to me and how badly I wanted to fuck him again.

I thanked god when practice was finally over. The professors weren’t on the bleachers when we wrapped up, so I focused on the task ahead of me. I told the fellas I had some economic shit to read and their kinda dumb heads automatically dismissed any questions about it, so I was free to run back to my dorm.

Once back, I threw my stuff down on the floor and, man, George was right, I should really clean my shit. My room was a mess and my mom would have killed if she saw the state it was. I had textbooks scattered on my desk, shoes and clothes everywhere, a wet towel on my twin-sized bed and I sincerely needed to change my sheets. It had only been a week.

Whispering, “I promise I will clean this shit up tomorrow,” I grabbed my laptop and fell onto my bed. I was not disappointed of what I found after typing his name into Google. Holy shit, he was hot, killing that twenty jersey. He was also a wide receiver and from what I could see, a damn good one. My pants got so tight watching old videos of him, there was no way we wouldn’t repeat the dose as soon as possible. Fantasizing about what I'd do to him, I jerked off, thrilled by the risk of being caught doing it to old photos of a professor.

George, my very organized and nerd roommate, could find a dildo in the form Zelda’s (or whatever the fuck was the character’s name) sword to fuck himself onto if he thought I would stop jerking off on my bed.

Amendola was smiling to the camera over his shoulder like a boy that was caught with both hands on the cookie-jar and I recognized the same smile from our last talk Saturday night.

Being a lover that usually lasted longer than the most, I was quite embarrassed to admit he made me so eager and knew so damn well how to do it, that I came just cause he said my name in my ear. I knew that moment I needed to get my revenge, I’d have to drive him even crazier than before and then get him to fuck me again. I knew what I had to do and I already knew where to begin.

I passed out after cleaning the cum of my abs and chest, the sheets be damned.

I woke up early the next morning. Making a mental note of keeping my promises, I changed my sheets and shoved my copy of the textbook inside my backpack, then went to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day.

Running into Doctor Brady on the line to get coffee was something I didn't expect, but he seemed to be interested in talking to me and that was how I found myself chatting on a Dunkin Donuts' line.

“Hey, Julian right?” He asked smiling and I nodded. Something about his clean cut looks, always seemed to scream he was a model and it never ceased to amaze me. Next to him, I was a bad-dressed little kid. He was 007 in a killer black suit and matching tie and I was every ounce of the young jock I was, in white running shorts, a black tank top and a 49ers cap. “49ers, good taste… Used to cheer for them. Back in my days, I used to think I was the next Joe Montana.”

“Why not?” I questioned, moving along with the line. “Bet you’d have six rings by now.”

Brady smiled, “I’d like to think I would. But, nah… I had to choose and my passion for teaching won, hence why the PHD.”

He ordered three black coffees and I looked at him trying to understand why would someone prefer a class over the field. Then I remembered Amendola had also made that choice and I smiled weakly thinking of him.

“You’re not drinking that by yourself right?” I ordered a cappuccino and a couple of mini donuts, before moving to the waiting line and getting Brady’s answer.

“Fuck no! I don’t even drink coffee,” He said, shrugging. “I have a meeting with my TA’s and Welker.” At the mention of the blonde, I looked away and didn’t refrain my frown. Brady was at the party too, he’d seen me dissing Welker a thousand times. “Relax, I’m not here to put a good word for him. He might be my best-friend, but I know he can be a self-centered bastard.”

“Thank you,” I said honestly, while he took his coffees.

“Hey, I’m on board the Danny Boy express,” Brady said quietly before getting closer and offering me his hand. “I saw the way you look at him, just be careful.”

When I shook his hand, Brady slipped a piece of paper into mine. He had to be planning that for a while, ‘cause I never saw him taking a pen out of his messenger bag.

I looked at the folded paper and opened it before getting my order. In a neat handwriting Tom said, ‘ _You’re welcome and not even under heavy torture tell anyone I gave you this_.’ Under the note was a phone number.  
I couldn’t love Brady more than I did at that moment. My plan was getting easier with every step, but first I needed to write a few notes. A couple weeks, at the most, then I’d use Amendola’s number and he would come to his own classes begging for sex again.

Punching his number into my phone and saving it, I got rid of Tom’s note, so he wouldn’t be linked to my little crimes. I grabbed my coffee and the mini donuts and headed to Amendola’s classroom. It was 6:45 AM and I knew I would beat the other students.

The two classes we had, Chris got there about the same time as I did and we had chatted a bit on the first day and on the second he had to go back for coffee and I was rewarded with Amendola and his hot usual self. By that time, I was fucking mad ‘cause I thought he and Welker were an item and I was really glad to find out I was wrong.

I was the only one in the classroom, when I arrived, so I took my time to drop my stuff on my usual chair in front of Amendola’s desk. Then I wrote a note declaring how much I had enjoying seeing my colors on him the day before and that he was even hotter in that jersey, and placed it over his chair before sitting in my spot again.

Amendola walked in when I was almost done with my coffee. I looked at my watch and then back at him, that looked professional and really hot in tight almost white jeans and a white polo.

“Is that a hickey you’re trying to hide, professor?” I knew he disliked to be called professor, but he was drop-dead gorgeous with his lips pressed in a thin line and furrowing his eyebrows in annoyance.

“That’s not appropriate, Mister Edelman!” He said reaching his desk and leaving his bag over it. His voice sounded like it was on automatic, as if he had rehearsed that sentence a thousand time. It was fun to think about Amendola saying that same piece over and over again to hide his true needs.

“Come on, we’re alone. What happened to Julian?” I said the last part trying to mimic the way he had said it, just to mock him. He was hot and really uptight in classes, so it was good to see him lose the teacher façade and fall into the big teaser I knew he could be.

The moment he saw the note was visible in his face. His expression twisted weirdly, like, between outrage and disbelief, and he shot a look over his shoulder smiling wryly. “You’re truly impossible, boy.”

“I’m quite possible sir,” I didn’t know what kind of weird fetish he had with that type of title, but he was biting his lower-lip and I made it worse by winking at him. “All you have to do is ask and I’ll be possible every night, if you want me to.”

He looked like he was about to retort when Chris walked in smiling and wishing us a good morning. Amendola just shot me one final glance and I gave him a smirk, before turning my attention at the lanky guy talking excitedly about the class.

Phase one: Success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have this long one-shot, CodeBlue1180 has even seen a bit of it, in which Danny and Jules met when they were kids and they come from money.  
> The actual story takes place when they're older after several years of friendship and a few years away from each other when Tom, their best friend, is about to get married. Jules is in love with Danny and Danny secretly has the hots for Jules, but he's an actor dating a model (Olivia).  
> I have the whole story developed in my mind and if you like it, I'm willing to write it and post it. Would you guys like it?


	7. I Like Doing What He Likes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting complicated. How will the boys deal with it?

Things happened quicker than I thought it actually would.

It started with hot notes that didn’t fail in making me hard. Then he got my phone number and for fuck sake, I started an archive for his nudes. Of course, I’d fail in all my resolves and I’d text him back, only to have more sex, like, non-stop sex. At least three times a week and I wasn’t even ashamed.

The problem began when we started to chat a lot and got to know each other for real. The lines were so blurred in my head that no one could really blame me.

I was never particularly good defining feelings and by that I truly meant I sucked badly at it.

Lust was easy, even simple to define. If you want naked bodies, it’s fucking clear that what you’re feeling is lust. However, liking or loving someone was complicated, way much more than I was comfortable dealing with.

Wanting to chat and cuddle after sex was a second nature of mine. Having meals together, hanging around, texting and phone calls was friendship. And those were all the signals Tony told me to watch out for. However, it was too complicated to see what was wrong, ‘cause my head kept telling me that none of that was liking or God forbid Love. It didn’t matter that I spent a big part of my day thinking about Julian or the fact he’d became Julian instead of Edelman in my mind.

I liked a lot to be around him, but I also liked to be around Tony and Chris, so no harm was done there. We just had a friendship with benefits. Awesome benefits.

Sincerely, he was an awesome guy. If he were a bit older, I would definitely take him to hang with the black tuxedo crew (which Ryan and I had started to call The Bleacher Boys). They would laugh at his quick remarks and he would drink all of us under the table, easily.

That should have been a sign. The fact I wouldn’t care to jump into a relationship with him if he were older, should have lit a neon sign in me as to what I was feeling, but everyone around seemed to like him – Welker a tad too much –, so I didn’t realize till it was too late.

Tom also seemed to have a special place for Julian in his heart, - even if Welker were his best friend and still desperately infatuated with Julian. Tom told me Julian was his best student and that he was secretly cheering for us. I laughed at him, saying he was confusing things and he just shook his head. Tom could see things before everyone else and that should’ve been the second sign.

Things started to fall into place in my head after the midterms when Tom threw a small gathering for couples and I didn’t understand why I was invited till I saw Julian there, glass in hand, looking absolutely edible in dark jeans and a simple plain white long-sleeved shirt. Tom had assumed again we were a couple and I got confused, ‘cause we were not together all the time, like Aaron and Kevin, the weird senior Aaron seemed to love more than his own life. We were not screaming to the whole world that we had a fling. Actually, we were pretty quiet about the whole situation, making sure we were never together at the university or even seen together out of it.

Steve had Kelly, his green-eyed beauty, in his arms. Aaron was intertwined with Kevin. The married couples were all showing affection and I was well aware of the pair blue eyes on me.

I wished for a second I could’ve remembered what Tony had said about the signals, but we were all friends and everyone knew about Julian and I and he was looking especially attractive, making jokes and simply being at home with my guys. My chest was filling with something bubbly that felt a lot like pride and I couldn’t help but smile and nod at him, saying wordlessly ‘Come here’.

To have his back against my chest and my arms around his waist while we chatted with the boys, felt so right and not even in a sexual way.

_Yellow light…_

“…then he came back dancing like a motherfucker and said he didn’t understand the play call and just juked everyone on his way to the end zone,” Julian finished his story about Rob’s last touchdown and everyone was laughing, even Tony had stopped giving me the sad eyes.

I couldn’t laugh though.

Something inside of me had shifted and I wasn’t comfortable with it. Suddenly everything was too hot and I probably had a little silent panic-attack. My body was close to Julian’s, but it wasn’t close enough and fuck, I needed more.

I knew what that was… that feeling in my chest. I was sure I felt something that looked a bit like that once and it wasn’t welcomed at all.

Julian turned around in my arms and looked at me, smiling so sweetly, my thoughts went wild.

_‘Since when did Julian smile that way to me? Where was that cocky smirk? What the fuck is happening? Why am I smiling back? STOP IT!’_

“Babe, are you okay?” He asked when someone changed the topic and he wasn’t really necessary in it. “You look a bit off.”

_Babe…_

_Babe._

_Red Light._

“I think I might be getting sick,” I answered weakly and lower than I really needed.

“We could go to your apartment if you want,” He said, winking mischievously and there was the cocky smirk and the tone that made my skin heat the way I needed.

“I dunno Jules,” burying my face on his neck, I tried to cope with everything that was happening. His smell surrounding me was so familiar and mixed with my own smell it was hard to know if he smelled like me or I smelled like him. It was good though, so I panicked a bit more.

I wanted him to smell like me and his clothes in my closet, his toothbrush in my bathroom and I just –.

_Shit…_

“Imma make you feel so good, Dola.”

That was the reason why people went straight to hell. The way that sexy voice whispered my name in my ear, was fucking sinful. Troy fell for much less than that.

On our way out, Tony patted my shoulder and said, “You already know, right?”

“There’s no way back, Tony,” I admitted, looking as scared as I felt.

“I know…” He murmured sympathetically.

The ride was quiet and only Julian murmured a few words. I was lost, looking at the traffic and trying to understand what happened and where things shifted for me. Was it the way he liked my weird babblings about scientific shit or the way he started to map the freckles on my back? His smile? What changed?

“Danny, what is going on?” Julian asked, his eyebrow raised slightly and I knew he was worried. How could I let the fact I was starting to know all his little habits pass me? Was I that blind?

“Nothing, I swear,” I said kicking my shoes off. I knew he wasn’t convinced, but I couldn’t tell him. Not when I knew for a fact that things would change between us. He was destined to the stars, a big athlete, maybe catching passes from Andrew Luck or Cam Newton, maybe a couple Super Bowl rings on his beautiful hand – even with the broken pinky (that finger was especially cute and I loved to kiss it and for fuck’s sake I shouldn’t have been thinking anything near that).

Where would I fit in that life? Just a professor in Kent, away from every possible team that would probably draft him. I was not worthy of him and-, WHY THE FUCK WAS I TRYING TO MAKE PLANS?

“Hey babe, tell me,” He whispered in my ear, and fuck… I didn’t see him taking his shirt off or getting closer, but he was there, inches away, his lips brushing my ear, making every single thought fly away from my head.

My hands found his hair and buried themselves in the soft locks I was always telling him to get it cut, but that I secretly loved, and my lips went straight to his’. It wasn’t rushed or desperate as I thought it would. No… I began with small kisses and then licked his lower lip begging for entrance, which he gave me straight away.

There was never enough of his taste. Julian had a peculiar sweet taste and I couldn’t stop. He was addictive and sincerely, I didn’t care enough to go to the Julian Anonymous reunions. Welker was presiding the reunions.

We kissed on my corridor and all the time my mind repeated that I wouldn’t mind saying it was our corridor, our bedroom and that we stumbled onto our bed, kissing and half-naked.

I knew his body even better than I knew mine and I couldn’t be more proud of the moans I was getting with every kiss.

“Are you sure?” He asked when I said there was no need for condoms. I was clean and he had told me he had gotten his exams back and that he was clean too.

I was never more sure of anything in my life like I was about that. I wanted all of him. I needed all of him!

It was slow and more passionate than every other time and in all of my life, I never felt better or more alive. He was inside of me and every slide brought him closer, kissing me all through the night. We didn’t come together, that would be too cliché, but I knew I was lost from the moment he slipped into me and said, “Daniel, I never needed anyone like you I need you.”

Julian kept praising me while moving between my legs. My legs were trembling around his waist and when we were close he whispered, “I know you don’t like it, but I love you.” His voice was shaky and it was way too much.

My room smelled like us, fuck, my house smelled like us! Julian slept more in my room than in his own dorm. We were never together at the University, but my room had become our room and I didn’t realize when it happened. I had his clothes in my closet and why in the hell I thought that leaving my apartment in his jeans to get us burgers was ok for a friendship?

How could I be that blind? It was right there, all the fucking time.

I looked at Julian, sleeping softly by my side, his blonde hair falling against his forehead and he looked relaxed, eyes closed and breathing slowly. As much as I wanted to curl myself against his beautiful sleeping form, I couldn't. He was way too young and the power pendulum of our relationship was completely unbalanced.

Smiling bitterly at my own agony, I tried to remember a way of restoring the equilibrium of the pendulum, quickly realizing I wouldn’t like the answers.

_'So much for reading Foucault twice.'_

I wanted Julian and the whole package. Wanted his passion, his intelligence, his pout over exceedingly complicated textbooks, his double-meaning jokes, his flirtatious smile, his groggy voice in the morning... everything.

I didn’t even care about the way he hugged me, all sweaty when he came straight from practice. Actually, I wanted him even more for every time his need to be with me and my surly-self surpassed his need to go to his dorm.

_Fuck..._

It was always him!

I never knew what that felt like. Maybe once and it was never that strong. I thought I knew, but no, I didn’t.

I didn’t know what was to look at someone and feel like I could fly. What was to have my heart racing every time I heard ‘I’m here!’

Gosh if I only knew, I would have never taken the spot.

"I think I love you," the words slipped from my mouth before I could really think about it.

It was out and it was true.

_I FUCKING LOVED A NINETEEN-YEAR-OLD._

What the hell had I done wrong to deserve that? I was paying for every single mistake my past lives committed. How could that be fair? I would’ve never had him by my side for real. Maybe for four years in low-key, if I was lucky enough and never being able to go out and just be with him outdoors.

I was in the middle of a major freak out when I heard his low laugh, still groggy from being almost sleep.

"It was about time, old man..." Julian opened his blue eyes and looked over the shoulder, smiling a bit. "You know I love you too, now stop over thinking about it and come spoon your boy." He pulled me in by the hand and I just held him close to my chest.

My worries could take a rain-check, the only thing that mattered was Julian and his soft skin, spicy scent and the fact he said he was mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is back and I needed six more months back at home.


	8. Only Fools Do What I do (Only Fools Fall)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING HURTS SO MUCH!  
> I apologize for everything that may happen to your feelings after this chapter!

Coming to terms and admitting to myself I was desperately in love with Julian was, probably, one of the hardest things I ever did, but the sense of freedom that came along with it was so refreshing. We’d just sit on my couch and bicker about silly stuff just cause we could, then we’d kiss and make love. I was able to truly feel what love was like.

That part was kinda new to me and I’d have to be a damn fool if said I didn’t enjoy every single moment of what felt like an eternity of happiness, for two incredible months.

I had to know something was off. Two months was too much.

The conclusion that something went wrong came to me at three fucking AM, with hard knocks on my door. Julian had gone back to his dorm to write an article due to the next week and I didn’t like my bed when he wasn’t in it, so I just fell asleep on the couch instead.

First, I thought it was a dream, but then a voice that sounded an awful lot like Eli’s started to call me and I knew that couldn’t be right, cause Eli didn’t have my address.  I rose myself from the couch slowly, trying to take in what was going on. With a quick glance at my phone to confirm the hour, I moved towards the door, feeling the panic slowly flood my chest.

“Danny, please!” Tony’s voice, completely desperate, joined Eli’s and something really primal inside me screamed Julian was in danger. I unlocked the door as quickly as I could, without caring about the fact I was wearing black boxers and a white t-shirt and that outside the apartment was cold as fuck.

“Danny, I’m sorry,” Tom and his model self-covered in a stylish over-coat, was in front of the guys and he looked desolate. I instantly panicked.

“What’s happening?” I almost screamed when Tony rushed to hug me. Tom and Eli got past me and I closed the door behind me when Tony joined them.

“First of all, you’re one of us, Danny. I moved some sticks, got a few answers and we’ll help you,” Tom said looking straight into my eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Julian is ok,” Eli took mercy of my heart and answered the biggest question in my head. Relieved was not good enough to describe what I was feeling. “Well, as good as possible.’

“Guys, what’s going on? Please, please, tell me!” I wasn’t ashamed anymore, the mere thought of something happening to Julian was enough to knock off every ounce of pride I had. “Welker did something to Julian? Did – did he?”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed when I finally realized what happened.

I was going to lose my job, Julian would be expelled and lose his NFL shot. At first, I was mad; I wanted to scream at him for seducing me and putting everything in danger. But then, after a few minutes pacing back and forth under the pity eyes of my friends, I became severely sad with the notion Julian would be taken away from me at least three years before I expected.

I’d never get to take him to London or to walk through Los Angeles streets holding his hand or watch his beautiful blue eyes shining brightly under Texas’ night. My parents would never meet him – not that I’d have actually taken the kid to meet my parents, they would never approve such thing, but the fantasy of it appealed a lot to me.

His parents would be called, I’d have to deal with his father going berserker, ‘cause his football star son was gay and the fault would be mine. I would be the one that got his kid into that mess, never mind the fact Julian was the one that looked for it. I could blame myself for everything, cause I took advantage of the situation, but Julian wanted that as much as I did.

Foucault and Freud somewhere in hell must’ve had been laughing their asses off at me. They could hold each other’s hands and go take a seat on the Devil’s lap.

I probably was in a catatonic state when I finally sat down, listening absentmindedly to Tom’s chanter about how I wouldn’t get fired and that he’d make sure nothing went into my records, but I couldn’t care less about my job. I wanted the three years I promised myself and so much more.

“I don’t think that really matters right now, Tom.”

I looked up and Tony was leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, his blue Cowboys’ sweatshirt all askew and for the first time that night I realized that not even Tom, in his strict rules about awesome fashion, looked good.

“How long did you know about it?” I asked, looking at Eli, the most disheveled of the three. He only shook his head, a tired smile spreading on his lips.

“Well, Rodgers for about thirteen hours, he’s been running up and down all day trying to make sure Julian’s sticking here with us. Eight hours ago, he told me he was desperate and that he needed me to convince Peyton to keep the boy. I did everything I could,” Eli took the spot beside me, his hands toying with the hem of his sweater.

“Is he going to be ok?” I asked staring blankly at a fixed point in my TV.

“That’s where I came in,” Tom said, standing next to the glass door that opened to a small balcony where Julian had been only a couple of hours ago. My heart stopped for a bit and I felt the tears threatening to fall, thinking that could be the last memory of us together in my apartment.

“I talked some sense into that big head of his,” Tom continued, while I attempted to listen to the story, hoping Julian would be alright. “Julian’s staying, but I couldn’t save your job. They can’t fire you, ‘cause there is no proof you did anything wrong.”

“I don’t care, I’ll go back to Texas or whatever. He’s fine,” I said, smiling sadly. He would have his career and everything, so I was beyond relieved. “That’s all that matters.”

“You won’t find anything around here; Peyton will make sure of that,” Eli stated as I tried to find a way to stay around. “The board will never agree with it.”

I spent good thirty minutes wrapping my head around the idea. I screamed, cried and I might have punched a wall, quite clever for a doctor.

“We managed to get you a spot, teaching residents in Foxborough, man. It’s a good place and you’ll get to watch the Pats,” Tony informed me, while put ice on my swollen knuckles.

“If I have to…”

Tony, Tom and Eli left an hour later after I calmed down enough to accept the offer and start to plan what I would do regarding the rest of the semester. Tom had a place I could stay till I found my own place and Tony gave me the phone number of the director of the Sturdy Memorial and Eli got me a few boxes he brought in his car before leaving.

I didn’t sleep and started to pack, crying when I opened my closet and Julian’s things were there, mixed with mine, creating our place.

Doctor McDaniels called me about seven AM to make everything formal, he said I had a meeting with the dean at midday exactly a week later and that Chris was taking my classes while they didn’t hire another professor, I was unofficially dismissed.

Being the good soul he was, Chris looked like he had run a marathon when he appeared at my door later that morning. I explained everything while he helped me to get myself more boxes and he forced me to have lunch, before heading home again.

Julian didn’t text nor tried to call me and I did the same. Tony said he had left for the week and he was back home, while the board came up with a solution for the problem. I was missing him, but we need to start to put some distance between us, so I respected his silence.

The weekend arrived and with it, half of the pack arrived at my apartment without an invitation by the end of the morning. Even though I was desolated, my boys were a light in the darkness, while putting all my memories in boxes.

None of the furniture was mine; I sorta rented the apartment with everything, but the things that made it like home, screamed in pain, being put away. I’d stay with Tony till Wednesday when I’d ship up to Boston – not even Randy’s pun was able to make me laugh – for a week and if I got the job, I’d stay there. No more Julian, no more black tuxedo crew.

When it was over and my apartment was stripped of every single piece of particular memory, there were only seven dudes drinking wine out of cheap cups, as we had done the first time, plus the addition of Chris.

I slept badly on Tony’s guest room, waking up three times that night and by the fourth, I quit trying to find any sleep, took a shower, wrote a note saying I was headed to my future and left wearing the suit I had for special occasions.

Tom's voice echoed in my head, "you're one of us Danny, we'll help you." How could they help me? I was in love with a nineteen-year-old that I'd probably never see again in the way I needed. Maybe, if I was lucky enough I’d get to buy tickets to one of his games in four years and watch him from far, only being able to listen to his voice in interviews.

No! That wouldn't happen, ‘cause Julian’s family would never allow me to get close to him ever again, they’d make sure I was a good mile away from him.

I walked slowly towards the dean’s office, looking completely miserable and having to drag my feet in order to move.

I was almost there when a woman in a black sweater and a long dark green skirt got out. She was blonde and looked like a caring woman, the type that would bake you pies and help you with your math.

Her eyes found mine and I would know who she was, even if Julian hadn't walked out the room right after her.

"Danny..." His voice was shaky and damn, he was scared. I wanted to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be ok, but it wasn’t going to be ok and if I had gotten closer to him I'd have cried. I was so scared, not about my job, but because I knew I had lost Julian way before the four years I had planned.

That hurt more than anything I had ever experienced. The notion we would not be together felt like a knife to my heart.

His mom kept walking and he followed her. The moment he walked past me our fingers brushed and I said loud enough so even his mother could hear, "Thank you for showing me what love is, Julian."

I didn't care if I sounded desperate, cause I fucking was. I wanted more from us, more from him and the look on his face, as if he was about to cry, told me he felt the same.

"I don't want you to go," He said, almost at the door, and there was nothing I could do to prevent a lonely tear from falling. I didn't want him to go either. I wanted him close, being mine.

His mother turned around and I expected her to be furious with the situation, screaming at me and letting out hellhounds on me. However, I was wrong, she looked as sad as Julian and I were.

"I'm sorry, Daniel." She said shaking her head. Then she placed a hand on Julian’s shoulder and they walked out, leaving me in the waiting room, longing for Julian’s presence and preparing myself for my time with the dean.

Sincerely, I heard what the dean and McDaniels had to say and didn’t say a word, didn’t even tried to defend myself, so I wouldn’t compromise Julian. Read the terms of the dismiss contract, signed it and left without a single word. Went straight to my office to clean my stuff, only to see them placed neatly in a box full of anatomy stickers and a big Thank you note on the right side.

I opened it and by the messy handwriting, I knew who it was, but I read it anyway. Chris was incredible. ‘Thank you for being one of the brightest minds I’ve ever met, I’d enjoy it very much if I could count on you to keep helping me to write my thesis, even from far. Tony told me you didn’t sleep, so I took my office hours to help you, bro. Your boy, Hogs.’

There was only one thing left to do after I left my super heavy box full of books in the storage container Eli had gotten me. I grabbed the only item out of a box and made my way to the campus again. I got to the bleachers half past three, just in time to see the players entering the field.

With my heart hammering in my ribcage, I watched as his strong figure making its way to the center of the field, carrying his shoulder pad and his helmet. He was dressed in a black tank top that looked a lot like one of mine, but he was unclad of all his usual cockiness, looking down and almost ten feet away from the group.

I had nothing to lose.

“JULIAN!”

My voice echoed, desperate, through the field and his reaction was worth all the looks I got. His head snapped up and the next thing I knew, his equipment fell to the grass and he was sprinting towards me and I just moved towards him as well.

When we met, I didn’t care about the package in my hand, leaving it to fall to the floor, and shit, that was my shirt. I hoisted him up, he wrapped his legs around my waist and we kissed like we were starving. If I was being honest with myself, I was starved. One week deprived of his touches and I was Chuck Fucking Noland.

His hands on me and my hands holding him up, while we kissed desperately what would be our last kiss.

I didn’t even know how long we were there kissing, but somewhere away from us, Belichick started to scream and we were forced to break our kiss. The first thing I registered after I got to look away from his blue eyes, was a figure that looked a lot like Welker standing beside Belichick.

I had to show him, despite everything, that Julian belonged to me. He was never going to get the kid.

‘No one else will do.’

 I held Julian’s face and kissed him again. Julian’s answer came in the form of a muffled moan and using his nails to claw the sensitive skin on my neck.

Once we were able to let go of each other, Welker was storming off the field. I didn’t have time to celebrate my victory, ‘cause Julian was there, looking disheveled by my kisses and utterly sad.

“Is this goodbye?” His voice was slightly on the edge and I wished I could do something to make his pain disappear.

“I’m sorry kiddo,” I said kneeling to get the parcel I’d let fall.

“Don’t go, please!” Julian asked his expression a mask of sadness.

“I wish I could stay…” I offered him the package and he took, hugging him tightly I continued, “I’m leaving tomorrow, please don’t make it harder. My Jersey’s is in the parcel and now it’s yours, keep it.”

“I love you, professor.”

“I love you, Mister Edelman.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THAT I HURT YOU, IT'S SOMETHING I MUST LIVE WITH EVERY DAY!  
>   
> Codeblue hated this chapter, cause everything hurts and nothing is good.  
>   
> #HATEYOUWES


	9. Nevermind (He'll Find Someone Like You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WISH NOTHING BUT THE BEST FOOOOOOOOOR YOOOOOOOOOOOOU!  
> Adele's the queen!  
> ALSO, IT'S HOGS POV!

I should have been mad, I really should.

For three years, I was the one that had to deal with Julian and Danny, listening to their complaints about how one missed the other and about how not a single person, even though Danny had had a string of meaningless one-night stands and Julian had his sick thing with Wes, was good enough.

One year after Danny left, Julian gave in to Wes and they sort of fell into a relationship that was really weird. The professor was all-in and the Wide-receiver sometimes, well, most of the time, didn’t give a shit about him. It was pretty clear to everyone that Julian would rather be with someone else, but Welker was fucking insistent.

He had zero pride when it came to Julian. I heard him telling the kid he was ok and that he had accepted his apologies. That they would learn to love each other with time and fall into a routine. Right after that, Julian laughed wryly and told him that he wasn’t apologizing for calling him Danny, then finished the call.

Julian was the only thing Welker had, cause ever since the terrible day he told the board about Julian and Danny, the guys felt like he wasn’t trust-worthy. The biggest blow to Welker’s ego was losing Brady, who had been his best friend for almost five years.

“I told you not to lose your mind,” Brady started when he found Welker walking around my lab. I had no idea as to why he was there; it wasn’t common for Brady to walk around the biology building, but I remember his deadly tone. “You don’t fucking get to tell me anything.” He spat when Welker started to speak, “I’m not your friend anymore. I don’t know you and I regret thinking I knew you once. Danny was a friend of ours and you did all of that ‘cause of a boy who was clearly in love with him.”

Then Brady proceeded to walk past Welker and I never saw him in our building again.

As the result of all that mess, Julian and I got close; it felt like we were best friends ever since high school. I couldn’t blame him since I was the closest thing Julian had of Danny and he was the closest thing I had to a friend.

Not ‘cause I looked anything like him, Danny could be a freaking model and I was just a regular dude. But the way I talked, my thesis, the way I moved and the subjects I taught. I was a substitute for all the features Danny had and Welker couldn’t eke out – even though Julian would make clear, every time he was drunk, Welker was not as good as Danny.

“Stay away from him!” Welker said one day, stepping into my office.

I told him to fuck off and he got closer, trying to intimidate me. Welker was not frightening; he looked like an obnoxious kid that thought he was the king of the world.

“Doctor Welker, with all due respect,” I started, staring fixedly into his eyes, sounding braver than I

actually felt. “I get that you might try to give my career here an end, but fuck it if I’m doing what a bully like you tell me to do.”

Welker even tried to crush my chances of becoming a real professor, talking a lot of shit to Peyton, which happened to be a giant jerk, but after everything he had done, the Black Tux Crew was more than ready to deal with him. Tom, in a fucking ridiculous move, got Welker thrown out of a beneficent gala and Gisele, God bless that woman, told him, in that sexy accent of hers, to be a creepy elsewhere.

Sincerely, I felt protected and I sorta liked to fall into a safe place, as Doctor McDaniels seemed to enjoy my work more and more.

I remember telling Julian to stay away from Welker and to resist him, ‘cause he was the worst type of human being he would ever meet. Of course, by that time, I didn’t know he was the one to blame about the whole separation shit, but I didn’t like the way he gravitated around Julian, almost like a vulture.

In my head, Julian would always belong to Danny, and vice versa.

So when January 20th came around and Julian finally gave in, making Welker the happiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen, it felt like a punch to my face.

Danny was not aware of that, for a while, of course.

He bugged me to no end, wanting to know how the kid had been. The first months he asked every other day, a semester later just twice a week and right before Julian and Welker became an item, Danny was asking about him only once a month.

We got into a bad argument on one of the last times he asked about Julian, trying to figure out if he had been sulking as he was. I might have been a bit drunk and angry as fuck, ‘cause Welker had yelled at Julian for being with me again, so I was tired and pissed at Danny for being suffering and trying to compensate in random one-night stands. Everything sort of slipped out of my mouth before I had the chance of thinking about it.

‘Are you sure they are together?’ Was Danny’s last text for a week, before I got really worried and called him. By that time, he was an orthopedic surgeon teaching residents, so he just blamed the articles and everything that comes along with students, but I knew he was in the worst place he had been ever since he left Kent. I knew his voice and I knew his fake smile.

Julian wasn’t better.

He tried to compensate Danny’s absence throwing himself like crazy into football practices and having sex with Welker when he missed Danny a lot.

We – Tony and I – spent three years finding ways to cope with them. The paths they choose to try to heal their broken hearts weren’t healthy, but we just tagged along and tried to help as much as we could.

Three freaking years felt like an eternity.

Julian had kept Danny’s jersey and asked me to hide it, ‘cause Welker would probably destroy it if he knew. So he would appear randomly at my place so he could wear it.

I tried to tell Julian that shit wasn’t normal, but he simply ignored me and kept showing up with ice cream, to eat while he watched other college matches to prepare for his own.

Every single goddam time, he would go straight to my closet and pull Danny’s jersey out, like some kind of reassurance and I even caught him talking to himself as if he was confessing his fears to Danny, even though he was all alone quite a few times.

As his academic career approached its end, it got worse. He would talk to the fucking jersey. Things like ‘my love, I’m scared... What if no one Drafts me? … I know I worked hard, but what if it is not enough? ... I suppose I have to believe you… Fuck you… I love you too.’

It was fucking depressive.

A week before the Draft, his family had to go to Scotland, to visit his older brother and Julian’s newborn nephew and I felt like I was the closest thing to family the kid had in the US, so I told him that if he didn’t want to be around Welker, he could come crash with me in my apartment. He came all the way from California to stay with me that week.

Tom was at a conference in Brazil and Skyped us so he could be there for his new best friend – role Julian had taken after Wes fucked up everything – when a team called him

“D’ya really want to be in this relationship, Jules?” I asked him, the second day of the Draft, watching him sprawled on my couch on his stomach, wearing Danny’s Jersey, purposefully ignoring Wes’ messages and eyes fixed on my TV.

“You wouldn’t understand Hogs,” He ran his hands through his hair and sat upright. “Wes was there for me when I needed.”

“And so I was and Tom, but uhg-, gross,” I frowned at the thought of having something with Julian.

“Man, disgusting!” Tom's voice came from my laptop placed on the coffee table facing Julian, I couldn’t see his face, but I was pretty sure he was frowning as well. I took the spot beside Julian, offering him a beer.

“Don’t even start you two,” Julian warned us while taking and opening the bottle.

“Dude, you have to at least admit it’s fucking weird to ignore your boyfriend’s texts today, one of the biggest days of your career,” I stated, taking a sip of my own beer. Julian only rolled his eyes and ignored me.

“Never mind that, today is your big day baby!” Tom smiled like a little kid and suddenly all of us were giggling.

“Shit just became real,” I laughed as Trey Wingo appeared on my TV screen. He asked some shit about the second-day prospect and the three of us went quiet, even though we could hear Tom’s TV with a second of delay.

‘I have to admit I’m quite curious about Kent’s Wide-Receiver, Julian Edelman,’ Adam Schefter said when asked. ‘I honestly think he should have been a first-round choice. Any guy that has four years in a row with more than a thousand receiving yards, deserve some love.’

I looked proudly at Jules, happy he was getting acknowledgment he really deserved, but Tom beat me to speak, “Look at you buddy, all famous.” Julian’s ears became bright red, even though he was beaming.

‘I don’t know if he is all that. I mean, Edelman’s is good, but he’s not going to be Antonio Brown.’ Mel Kiper’s words brought a bad taste to my mouth as I watched Julian flinching slightly, his hands pulling the hem of Danny’s Jersey.

‘But I most definitely had seen him going before Jimmy Garoppolo,’ Kiper continued and the three of us relaxed again. ‘I think he has that spark we see in some players and I have the feeling he’s going to be something in this league.’

‘Trey,’ Suzy Kolber called for attention. ‘The word that got around is that before coming out publicly as gay back at the Combine, Edelman was supposed to get picked yesterday.’

Julian’s face was an emotionless mask at that point. His lips were pressed into a thin line and the tension in his jawline was visible. I knew he wasn’t having second thoughts about the whole coming out to the nation thing, ‘cause if there was something Julian really was, well, that was out and proud.

That didn’t stop him from suffering from the hostility of some jerks that, with their heads up their asses, thought being gay made someone a bad person.

‘That’s some gut the kid has,’ Todd McShay started. “Edelman, I don’t know where you at right now, but you were my 8th pick and you still are. I don’t care what you think Mel and take notes of what I say, ‘cause the Patriots got Rob Gronkowski last year and Jimmy Garoppolo yesterday. Now they’re getting Julian Edelman too. In the next two years, they’re going to become heavy Super Bowl contenders.’

“Holy fuck, Jules…” I whispered, completely dumbstruck. We all knew Julian was great, but never in a thousand years had I seen him going that high in the draft.

We stood there, quietly drinking and watching as the commentators argued about McShay’s bold prediction. Of course, Julian had no way of knowing, but once he stood up to go to the bathroom, Tom and I exchanged a meaningfully look.

“Listen, Hogs,” Tom said in a hushed tone. “Don’t tell him about Danny. Not today.”

“We don’t even know if he’s getting drafted by the Pats,” I whispered, getting closer to the Notebook. “It’s like, 1 in 32, Tommy.”

“I just have this feeling, he’s–”

“What feeling, buddy?” Julian asked, coming back and scaring the shit out of me. “Gee – chill out, bro! What are you talking about?”

“I think you should get ready,” Tom said sipping whatever was in his glass.

The draft had just started when Julian got a call. He was trembling and fumbled his phone, before answering it, his answers short and I was pretty sure he was crying.

I looked at Tom, smiling hard, and I saw him jumping around and kissing Gisele.

‘The San Francisco 49ers have traded the thirty-second pick to the New England Patriots,’ as Goodell announced, we felt our hearts freeze. I was wide-eyed and Tom stopped mid-motion.

‘With the thirty-second pick in the 2017 NFL draft, the New England Patriots select Julian Edelman, Wide-Receiver, Kent.’

Even though I was concerned as fuck about the whole Danny thing, I couldn’t help but jump in my place, screaming, happy for Julian. Julian just hugged me and Tom kept screaming things his children were lucky not to be around to listen.

The Patriots were not a huge team. Well, they didn’t win a single Super Bowl in their history, but the year before Belichick was hired as the head coach and he had gotten Rob with him. They went from 4-12 to 7-9.

Everything about the team was evolving. The Eastern Illinois kid was freaking incredible, like, thirteen thousand yards in four seasons. They started to build a good defense and sincerely, in my humble opinion, they would go 9-7.

“I-I need to call my dad, dude…” Julian excused himself, and opening the door he sprinted outside, like Usain-Freaking-Bolt.

The sugar crash came to me in the form of a call from Foxborough.

With my blood like ice in my veins, I looked at Tom and he raised an eyebrow.

“Danny, How you doing?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Putting on speaker mode, I got closer to the laptop.

"I-I-I'm on m-my night shift, but di-did he g-got d-drafted by the Patriots?" His voice was a pitch higher than it usually was.

“Yeah,” Tom started. “Hi buddy, it’s Tom. How are you?”

“Hey tom, I’m, uh, I don’t know,” Danny sounded confused and I knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Danny was processing the fact he was going to be twenty minutes away from Julian, but being

two separated people. “Does he know–,”

“You’re in Foxborough?” I interrupted him. “Well, no.”

“Don’t tell him.”

“But, I –” I started to object when he interrupted me.

“Just don’t. The kid must’ve had a hard time moving on and as much as I hate Welker –. Listen, huh, I’ve gotta go. Some teenager tore its Achilles heel. I’m sorry; just tell Julian I’m happy for him and that his old man wants him to have a nice rodeo.”

I would have liked to tell Julian that Danny was in Boston, but after a while, Julian didn’t come back, so I just told Tom he was free to go and I went out to try to find Julian. He was sitting at the fire escape, shirtless, having placed Danny’s Jersey on his lap.

“I can’t believe it, I’ve made it baby –”

“Huh, Jules,” His face turned quickly in my direction, his neck and his cheeks were red in the chilly night. “Your old man told me to tell you he’s happy for you.”

“My old man? I just talked to my dad.” He frowned.

“Well, your old man wants you to have a nice rodeo.”

As realization dawned on him, I went back to my apartment. He never asked again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's raining again and this time is like we're living with Noah.  
> P.S. I believe there's a different one-shot coming.


	10. I've Hungered For Your Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm posting to help our broken souls to get better after what happened yesterday.

_What am I doing here?_

Asking myself for the thousandth time that day amidst the crowd in Foxborough, I watched expectantly as player after player entered the field for the first day of the training camp.

“You real?” Sam asked me over the phone one week before. He had been planning to take some time off his joint-practice with the Pats to visit me.

“Yeah man, I’ll be there, I promise.”

I just did not tell him I would be there the whole extension of the training camp.

My case was helpless; I knew that after three years I was still truly in love with the boy. I could see his beautiful smile everywhere and his laughter would ring in my ears at the most random times, like my personal ghost, hunting me every day.

Of course, he would be in a relationship, that’s what kids – well, he was 23, so hardly a kid anymore – were supposed to do. They move on, heading for a new chapter of their lives. There is no such thing as a love strong enough to break a young heart and I knew that very well.

Julian was nineteen when we met, the same age I was when I thought I loved my best friend. Never really told Sam about it and I did not regret it, cause twelve years later I found out that was never really loving. What I felt was not strong enough as having the air ripped out of my lungs the first week I had to spend away of my kiddo, or as the longing, I thought would disappear after a couple months. Or maybe as feeling my heart in shreds after finding out, via a slightly drunk Chris, that he was with Welker. Out of all the people, Welker.

Most of the time I was in automatic mode, going through everyday stuff like a robot. After leaving Kent, my boys - which would visit me as frequently as they could -, made sure I had everything. A job, a house I could rent, nice people to surround me, but everything was wrong. Nothing felt right and shit; all I could do was sit and watch as my life passed in front of my eyes.

My eyes were glued to the screen for an entire trimester, following as much as I could about the draft. I watched his conference at the combine a million times, noticing how he was proud of who he was. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was my One, the one I never knew I had been looking for and man, I missed him so badly.

That’s why at eight in the morning of the first vacation I had taken in three years, I was standing in the front row of the bleachers, doing a terrible job of mingling myself with the multitude of jerseys. For starters, I wasn’t in a jersey, so not the best way. Second, the group of girls beside me were fucking loud. Jesus, each player felt like I was about to go deaf.

So, in a sea of blue and red jerseys, a white t-shirt would be strikingly obvious and I failed my goal of keeping my presence there in the low key.

Rob Gronkowski still looked like every bit of the giant man-child he was when we first met. By his side, an incredibly handsome mixture of Aladdin and Clark Kent, wearing the number ten jersey, talked excitedly. In his left hand, he carried his helmet and with his other hand, he waved to the crowd in no particular direction.

The bunch of girls beside me got even louder than before, yelling god-knows-what to them. Like, yeah, the boy, apparently the rookie Quarterback, Jimmy Garoppolo, was hot, but for God’s sake, they had never watched one of his games before.

Garoppolo smiled at the girls and made his way to our direction. I was still looking to Rob and didn’t have time to fully understand what would happen. Rob, following Garoppolo, was in front of me in a matter of seconds, his eyes wide open and his mouth hanging open.

“DANNY? DOCTOR AMENDOLA?”

I stood up and gave him a sincere smile. Even though my purpose there was defeated, it wasn’t every day an NFL star remembered having you as a teacher.

“That would be me, Robert,” I said, accepting his quick half hug. Around me, everyone seemed to be dying for a piece of Rob’s attention, so he just pulled me towards the field and Garoppolo, frowning at Rob, trailed our steps.

“Oh shit!” Rob shot me a huge smile. “Guacamole my boy, this is Doctor Amendola,” Aladdin Kent – And yes, that was the only thing my mind could think of every time I looked at the kid -, shook my hand firmly, but quickly.

“I was Robert’s profe- actually; I never got to teach you, right?” The boy looked confused.

“Yeah… Guaps, Danny was Julian’s acquaintance I told you,” Rob wriggled his brows to Garoppolo, and the kid’s reaction would’ve been hilarious if I hadn’t been curious as to why Rob told his new quarterback about me. The kid was as red as his jersey and he muttered something I didn’t hear, before nodding a farewell and walk slowly towards a group of players.

I was about to ask why were they talking about me, but Rob started again “You’ll see Dola, you’ll see. Anyways, what are doing here?”

“Huh… I’ve been working twenty minutes away from here for, like, three years now,” I said, rubbing the hair on the back of my neck.

“For real? Why didn’t you, I don’t know, come last year?” Rob asked and something in his eyes told me he already knew the answer. He started to open his mouth to say something else when a white blur tackled him to the ground. I would fucking know that ass everywhere, ‘cause I had been starved for it for three years.

My heart skipped a beat watching him looking at Rob and in the next second it was beating so fast and so hard against my ribcage, I started to worry about my well-being.

Julian was there. Julian was in front of me, hitting Rob playfully. I was hearing his voice after three freaking years.

“DUDE STOP! FUCK!” Rob yelled at him, but I barely registered his voice, only cataloging Julian’s milky skin and wondering why the fuck he would actually get a haircut?

“Since when you became such a grown-up, Rob?” Julian pushed himself to his knees, looking at the giant man and not even acknowledging my presence. His voice was the same I played in my head night after night, but so much better. I had goosebumps all over my skin and I was, probably, just shy steps away from fainting. Good God, he was so close.

Rob shot a quick glance at me, urging me to say something and before I could put some thinking into a good comment, my mouth let slip the first thing my high-functioning brain could come up with. “Looking good, kiddo.” Julian spun so fast in his heels; he fell onto his butt, unable to say anything.

For a second we just stood there looking at each other. I knew I hadn’t change that much; maybe the fact I extinguished my beard or that I looked tired as hell, but not a single dream could have prepared me for how he looked. The way his blue eyes, wide in surprise, seemed more experienced, his beard had grown a lot and I wanted badly to feel the burn of it on my inner thighs.

The urge I felt was nothing like I had ever been through. Every fiber of my body screamed in need to touch him, to feel him, to be closer.

“Holy fuck,” The words were spoken in such a low tone that for what I knew about Julian he hadn’t intended to say it out loud. Smiling from ear to ear at the thought that Julian probably hadn’t changed a lot, I offered a trembling hand to help him to get up.

“You kiss your mom with that mouth, Julian?” I said seconds before he took my hand, the crowd screaming for his attention, forgotten in the background.

I didn’t hear them going ‘aaaaaaaaaaaw’, when instead of getting up and let my hand go, Julian, used the instant I zoned out, feeling his palm sweaty against mine, to launch himself at me. His body was hot like the sweetest summer day and he smelled like home.

Burying his face in my neck and hugging me, he let out what would’ve been an undignified noise any other time, but I had been yearning that embrace for so fucking long, so it simply felt like the culmination of what those three years felt like.

“Fuck you,” Julian murmured into the curve of my neck.

“Hello to you too, kiddo.” It was easy to give him a funny retort once the easiness of having his presence started to expand in my chest once again, but I knew that was all I would have.

Julian was not hugging me ‘cause we would get back together; he was hugging me just because I had been an important part of his life, so of course, he would feel inclined to hold me close. After all, we were lovers once.

“What are you doing here, professor?” Letting me go, he asked with that cocky smile of his, and all I could do was shake my head and smile back.

My heart was hurting, but seeing him made it hurt in a good way. God dammit, it hurt so good to see his mischievous blue eyes sparkling.

“You know better than to call me professor, Julian.”

“Julian?” He leaned down to get his helmet back and I was, one more time, rewarded with the sight of that amazing ass covered by grey sweat-shorts. Fighting to keep the focus on what he was saying and not to slap that perfect ass, I heard him ask cheekily, “What happened to Mister Edelman?”

“Not my student anymore,” I answered and then bit my lower lip to avoid adding a double-meaning comment, like, I can do whatever I want now.

His gaze dropped so quick and subtly to my mouth, that I doubted it was real, blaming my starving mind for that trick.

“Yeah… long time, no see, professor,” Julian started, looking down.

“Don’t you dare to blush, kiddo,” I cut him. I wanted him to feel good, so if my presence in his first OTAs would make his experience awkward, I’d just leave, even though the thought alone was hurting me.

“I would never, old man,” The silly nickname felt like a knife to my chest, but I held my smile, while the offensive coordinator, Kyle, called Julian. “Are you staying around? Like, I can show you the bits of the city I know.”

He started to move away and I couldn’t hold the laughter, “I’ve been living here for three years now, Julian. I can show you everything you still don’t know, if you want to, of course.”

Looking over his shoulder, brows furrowed quizzically as if asking how he didn’t know that, he shouted, “I’d love to.”

I was starting to walk back to the bleachers, where some random blonde girl, dressed like a high school cheerleader, had taken my spot when a hand tapped my shoulder.

“Daniel,” I turned around to see Belichick with his forever-unamused frown.

The thing with Belichick was that, once he coached you, you’d never lose respect. He’d be, forever, the mastermind behind every choice you’d ever make. That was how terrifying he was.

For real, every time I had asked Sam for advice, he had said ‘man, WWBD.’

_What Would Belichick do?_

So when he called me, I just said a quick “Coach,” and looked at the ground.

“You’re not my player anymore Daniel. Look up, boy!” No matter how old I was, I’d always feel like a kid every time Belichick ordered me around.

“I’m sorry, not everyone gets used to not do it,” I apologized.

“That’s a good thing, I suppose,” He looked back to where the coordinators were standing next to the Quarterbacks. “What do you think of the boy?” He asked, pointing to Aladdin-Kent-Garoppolo.

All I wanted to do was to watch Julian running through his drills, but it was Belichick and I felt like I owed him that much. Hence why I stopped looking at the wide receivers and analyzed the boy’s interaction with the older and probably starter Quarterback for a couple of minutes.

He’d take every piece of advice number fifteen gave him, then move around in confident strides and throw perfectly in time, his steps were ever so quick and his release was ridiculously fast, but being an Orthopedist, I had been trained to look what was off about the athletes' performances.

“His final step, like, the very last one. He’s doing it wrong, any impact there and it’s going to break,” I pointed at Garoppolo right before his final step and said, using my full Doctor mode. “I don’t know if number fifteen told him to do it on purpose or if he didn’t see it, but Clark Kent there is going to get severely injured if he keeps it up.”

“Hmm…” He looked at the other side where the receivers were and pointed at number 19. “Malcolm over there, clinical analyses.

“Don’t know, but I think he’ll need help with his knee. Been massaging it a lot.”

Belichick dragged me around all morning and I didn’t have the chance to talk to Julian again, but by the end of the day, for a while there I felt like my life wasn’t on automatic. Even the pain was making me feel alive.

Then again, I knew the problems were only beginning.

I opened my twitter to fifty new followers and a ‘ _You fucker, you weren’t actually taking vacations. #BestBro_ ’ tweet from Sam, with a link to a gossips website. I knew he was mad, ‘cause he never tweeted me, unless he wanted me to contact him first.

I had always been the not exactly known best-friend. The internet had pictures of Sam and I together in parties, concerts or just hanging out. Sometimes I’d get random followers on my twitter account, where I’d never post anything really important, but other than that, I was pretty unknown.

Shit was about to change and I knew that.

I looked at the screen and decided to click on the link later. I had a lot to think about, like how it felt to see Julian once again and how we would go out again.

Not like that, I repeated to myself.

It took me a while to fix myself dinner – that would be calling my favorite pizza place - and taking a shower before I could open the link. Next thing I knew, I unlocked my phone to find another wave of followers and the link still there.

I clicked on it and the annoying pink background was the first thing that caught my eye.

The headline said in a giant font-size “Are the Patriots starting a model agency?” with a picture of me in my white t-shirt, dark jeans and with my shades on, squatting on the sideline, with one arm resting over my knees and the other pointing something. Belichick was beside me, hands on his knees looking towards wherever was that I was pointing.

(Pretty sure it was his Second-year OL, the guy was about to develop a huge hernia).

The article had a lot of information about me, leaving me mesmerized, like, how the fuck did they gather that many information in less than ten hours?

They talked about my time in Kent, linking me to Julian, Rob and Belichick. They knew my Job, that I was friends with Sam going way back to high school and that I used to support the Cowboys.

And the pictures… Fuck, they had pictures of me talking to Rob, Garoppolo shaking my hand, me standing on the sideline pulling my shirt collar with both hands and talking to Kyle, but there was a whole section directed to Julian and I.

The author of the article even went on and on about how I’d make a better couple with him than Welker. I was too shocked to agree with that.

I was so happy in the pictures. They had captured the exact moments to prove the point I was a possible love affair. Julian on the grass, wide-eyed, and me, smiling like a lunatic. Or a close up of us when he buried his face in my neck. Even his cocky smirk and, apparently, my coy smile, they managed to get. A fucking video of Julian throwing himself at me.

At the end of the gallery of pictures, I was beyond astonished, but I had to agree with one thing: We were a fucking good-looking couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never cursed as much as I did yesterday.  
> So freaking mad!


	11. Jealousy (Turning Saints Into The Sea)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VIOLENCE WARNING! Not really, though.  
> This Chapter is by far CodeBlues1180's favorite. Gosh, she loved even more than I did. Never seen someone so happy!  
> Yep, I took the name of the chapter of my fave song.

Lying in bed awake is as uncomfortable as one might think. The sheets are always too hot, Julian's empty space close to the door was always too cold and I wouldn't lie to myself anymore, the spot would forever belong to him.

The reason for my insomnia was obvious: the photos were so intense... Julian still looked good by my side, as if he was supposed to be there. And I... well, I was still very much infatuated, as much as I had been when I left. The close-up picture of me the moment we hugged showed my honest reaction.

Chastising myself because I would have to be up by five in order to face the crowd in Foxborough, I almost fell off the bed, feeling my phone buzz on my lap. Of course, I couldn't sleep, but that didn't mean I was expecting an unknown number to call me that late.

"Daniel, it's Bill," Belichick started. He had to have good reason to be calling so late. "Were you sleeping?"

"No sir," I answered a bit annoyed with almost having fallen off my bad. For a second I wished my instincts were wrong and that Belichick wasn't calling to ask me to help around again.

I just wanted to watch Julian and get his new phone number at the end of the day. Speaking of which, "Sorry coach, but how did you get my number?"

"Not important," I was pretty sure that was really important, but I also knew that if he didn't want to give me the information, I wouldn't get it, so I didn't press him. "The reason why I'm calling is to ask you a favor," straightforward as always.

"Ok," I mumbled ruffling my hair in despair.

"Richard, one of our doctors, is about to retire and I told the board you should get the job.

"I- what?" The hand in my hair froze mid-motion and my eyes widened in Surprise.

The only thing going through my mind at that point was, ‘ _why the f*** would Belichick want me to be their doc?_ ’

"Look, Amendola, you work with Richard, right?" Belichick said that as a matter of fact and not a question. And yeah, I knew Doctor Wright, but not like that. It was a lot more like I worked for the man.

“Yeah sir, Doctor Wright is my boss,” I mumbled, sitting upward on the mattress. I probably looked like a mess, my hair like a bird's nest, my beard starting to grow again and with the sheets covering my legs.

“He’s tired and says it’s time to go to California and play golf. I’d follow him, God knows how much I hate this cold weather, but I got a job to do. Just a second, boy,” a few sentences were said away from the phone and I couldn’t quite understand, but he got back quickly. “Listen, Linda wants me to go to bed. Just talk to Richard tomorrow, he’ll be waiting for you at the Sturdy Memorial, 11 a.m. Don’t let the thing you had with Edelman screw up a nice job for you… again. I trust you. Night, Daniel.”

With that, he finished the call without even waiting for me to say it back, leaving me no time to refuse the offer. I had no desire to remind myself of what I had lost, really intending to stay away from faux-prince charming and Julian. I had no business coming into that relationship.

He’d grown up and made his mind, got himself a nice job and a fiancé. I was just someone standing in the bleachers watching his debut on Friday night lights.

I was convinced to tell Doctor Wright to find another person when I entered the hospital that morning, in tight denim jeans and a short-sleeved black button-up. Offering smiles to the nursing staff and a few Doctors, I walked past the Emergency department moving to the elevators.

When I got to Doctor Wright’s floor Emma was waiting for me in front of his office, leaning against the door. She was the only real friend I had there. We met on her last resident year and she always tried to ask me out, so I had to tell her I was gay. Emma never quitted trying.

Emma's bleached-blonde hair was in a high ponytail, her blue eyes had dark bags under it contrasting with her almost albino-white skin and scrubs were completely askew, but she was smiling and holding a white coat and an ID. It’d be cute and bust my ego if I were up to what she wanted.

“Hey there, Doctor stud” Emma stepped away from the door, towards me.

“We’ve discussed this before, sexy,” I said accepting the ID and placing it over my breast pocket.

“Come on Doctor, one day you gonna give in.” She answered playfully, offering me the white coat.

“Not working today, Miss Palmer,” I winked at her.

“Wright’s gonna be late, he’s still in surgery. A kid was thrown out of the car, they’re having cardiovascular surgery trying to repair his arm,” She forced the coat on me. “And I need an orthopedist, I need you.” Emma was pouting at me and I had no option, but to take the coat from her hands. “There’s this girl, she fell off her skateboard, tibia, and fibula were broken, open fracture. Dislocated shoulder and she might have a severe concussion; she’s taking a while to answer our questions.”

Putting the coat on, I followed her to see Jenna, the concussion girl.

I loved taking care of people and being able to teach at the same time, even though it was freaking exhaustive most of the days, the feeling of knowing that girl would be alright and walking in six months had me even more convinced I was going to stick with my job.

Once I finished placing the screws, I was tired; on the other hand, I couldn’t be more satisfied with myself. Leaving for the residents assisting me to patch up Jenna, I left the room to talk to her mother. The scrubs I changed into to perform the girl’s surgery was sticking with my sweat and I had taken off the mask and scrub cap, making my hair messy.

I was getting closer to the hospital reception hall when I heard Emma’s voice, too high to be considered normal. “SIR, YOU HAVE TO CALM DOWN!” I ran the last corridor to get to her if my help was needed, even if I knew the security staff would be able to handle whoever it was.

“I’M NOT CALMING THE FUCK DOWN! WHERE’S AMENDOLA?”

There was no way in hell I wouldn’t know that voice, I had planned to break all teeth from the voice’s owner.

Almost in berserker mode, I sprinted the final meters to the hall. Welker was in front of Emma, dangerously close to her. He looked like a lunatic with dark bags under his blue eyes, his blonde hair and clothes dirty and disheveled.

He saw me before Emma could realize I was there and I wanted him to. She would try to stop us and get hurt in the process.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU DOING?” He yelled, shoving Emma out of his way, making her hit her head.

We were moving towards each other and nor even the knowledge I could lose my job ‘cause of him, again, was slowing me down.

“What I should’ve done three years ago,” I answered as low as I could. No need to have extra attention to the show.

In all honesty, I had intended to hold him by his collar and get him away from Emma and the receptionists. Of course, he hadn’t had the same idea, as always the unscrupulous bastard, he threw a punch to my left cheek, stunning me for a second and then it all went south.

I saw red, hitting as much as I could and I knew I had won the fight the moment I felt his nose bone crushing under my fist. Welker fell to the ground, his hands on his nose and threw myself on top of him, punching his bloodied face non-stop. At first, he was putting up a fight, but I was relentless and when cops took me off him he was almost passing out.

“EMMA?! ARE YOU OKAY?” I screamed looking in the direction she’d fallen. It was no use to try to escape the men holding my arms, so I forced myself to calm down. That was probably the reason why I wasn’t handcuffed.

“Where’s Emma?” I asked the staff around Welker

“She’s alright, Danny,” Chip, one of the nurses there, said kneeling beside his face.

“You’re coming with us Doctor,” the tallest of the cops said, yanking me away from the scene. He didn’t sound angry or specifically concerned about my situation. Actually, he sounded amused by the situation, a doctor hitting someone, must have been hilarious.

“I wasn’t the one who started it! It was self-defense, I swear!” I pleaded right before they shoved me in the backseat.

Panicking a bit, I looked at my right-hand knuckles. They had Welker’s and my own blood, and they were really, really bruised.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” The guy in the passenger seat said wryly. “We are keeping you till we see the hospital’s footage, Doctor. If he started it, we’ll let you go and press charges against that poor fella.”

“That’s everything he’s not,” I mumbled trying my best to clean my hand against my scrub, which proved to be a hard task, ‘cause it had Welker’s blood everywhere.

“Enlighten us, Doctor. Why did you beat a guy ‘till he almost blacked out?” The driver asked.

Breathing in slowly, I reorganized my thoughts to answer. If I said the real motive, they would know I would’ve hit him even if he hadn’t struck me first.

“I met him quite a while ago, I used to teach at the same college he did. Never got over the fact his fiancé and I had a relationship before they were a thing,-”

“Oh, I know why you think he looks familiar, Skip. He’s the guy that was helping the Patriots yesterday,” The driver interrupted me and I was in shock realizing those guys knew who I was.

“Wait… that was Edelman’s fiancé?” Skip asked, turning his face to look at me. The worst thing about his face was not the fact he had a big black mustache or his crooked nose. Nope, his expectant smile was terrifying, like what would happen a Great White shark could smile.

Swallowing hard and trying not to flinch, I nodded.

“So let me see if I get it,” He said, going back to his original position. “Edelman’s fiancé hates you because Edelman used to be in love with you. This is fucking gold Dale! We won’t need Mexican soap operas ever again.”

“How does that become a full knock-out in a hospital?” Dale, the tall one driving, asked.

“I’m assuming he saw pictures of me at the practice, like you two did,” I said, letting my head fall against the seat, the buzz finally ending. My left cheek was hurting a bit and my right shoulder was most definitely dislocated, but my right hand… I couldn’t even bend my fingers without hissing in pain. “He attacked Doctor Palmer and then punched me, so I defended myself.”

“You almost killed him,” Dale stated in an amused tone and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m a Doctor, I wasn’t going to kill him.”

“Listen, man,-”

“Doctor Amendola, or just Danny,” I interrupted Skip, without looking at them, watching the buildings passing through the window.

“Doctor Amendola,” He began again. “You seem a very nice guy and that’s the reason we didn’t cuff you. But you gotta know, self-defense or not if the hospital decides to press charges for public disturbance, you’re gonna face a criminal prosecution and even may lose your M.D.”

“I know…” I had acknowledged that fact the first thing after I saw Welker’s face again. “Doctor Wright’s going to see I was trying to protect Doctor Palmer, myself and even the other patients. Welker was out of his mind.”

“Whatever you say Doc.”

Welker was brought in about two and a half hours after they put me in a cell.

I was putting ice in my hand, which would definitely need a cast when they dragged him to the cell across from mine. He had stitches on one of his eyebrows, I had busted both his lower and upper lips and he had a cast on his nose, aside from all the swallowing and the black eyes. I was pretty proud of my job.

“It’s not over, you know?” Welker said after forty minutes of awkward silence and drunk noises coming from the guy in the last cell. That had to be hurting a lot and I couldn’t care less.

“Is that a threat?” Quirking an eyebrow, I smirked at him. “‘Cause you’re in no position of threatening me. Have you looked yourself in a mirror?”

“Fuck you, Amendola!” He hissed.

With poison running through my veins, I spat, “That’s what your boy used to do, though he liked when I was on top.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“NO! YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU’RE FUCKED UP MAN. IT WASN’T ENOUGH KNOWING HE WAS IN LOVE WITH ME AND THAT WE WERE HAPPY. YOU BROKE US UP AND ALMOST RUINED HIS LIFE! THAT’S NOT LOVE, THAT’S OBSESSION, YOU FUCKER!”

“I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO AND NOW HE’S WITH ME-”

The door opening silenced both of us.

“Wes, what did you do?” Julian’s voice was an ice bucket on me. He was there to bail his fiancé and not to check out if I was all right. Actually, he had his back to me, not even acknowledging my presence.

As always, he looked good. I was reminded of how I used to playfully tell him that nothing fitted him better than plain clothing.

“It’s nothing babe,” Wes mumbled looking at the floor.

“You’re in a cell and it’s nothing! Sometimes I think you forget that you’re not the only intelligent person in this relationship,” Julian sounded mad and I knew how scary he could be when he was angry. Even though Welker deserved it, I couldn’t blame him for not being able to look Julian in the eyes.

“For God’s sake Wes, look at your face!” He continued, “I hope you didn’t hurt the other guy badly!”

I couldn’t help but snort at his comment.

Julian turned around wide-eyed, to find me leaning against the corner of the cell, “Danny?"

“Hey kiddo,” Smiling apologetically, I showed him my right hand, as he stepped closer to me. “His nose hit my fist a few times.”

“Why did you do it?” Julian asked me, his blue eyes had a tinge of sadness.

“I’d like to know why a crazy man walked into the place I work, hurts one of my co-workers and hits me in the face,” I answered sardonically. Of course, I knew the reason, but I need to hear it coming from Welker himself.

“You started this, Wes?” Julian turned back to him.

“Babe-,”

“Don’t… I came here to bail you out ‘cause I thought maybe you got into an argument with one of those jerks talking shit about me, but since you started it, I’m leaving you here, ‘till Danny and the hospital decide what they gonna do.” It sounded like that was not the first time it had happened and it hurt me to realize what Julian had to face, without me being there to help.

“But, Babe-” Welker was the face of desperation at that point, but Julian just ignored him.

“We’ll talk once you’re home. And, you Daniel. I don’t know what to expect, but I’m tired of playing around. I already am under constant pressure to be better than everyone else ‘cause I’m fucking gay, I don’t need more media, thank you. ”

“What?” I asked, truly surprised that he thought I was doing it for the media.

“I know where your mind is going and I’m not telling you that you do it for the media, you hate it, I know you do. But your decisions affect me, so think before doing something like this again, professor.”

I looked at him and all I could think was how that kid had grown, how he had become such a beautiful human being.

“Don’t call me professor,” I mumbled, not really meaning it.

He glared at Welker, “We have so much to talk about;” He moved towards the exit, but before he left, he looked at me and said, “See you around, Daniel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, my babe is almost done! Never wrote something this big and actually finished.  
> Three days ago I outlined the last chapter and I was so sad to see it coming to an end. I still have to fulfill the blankets left, but it's pretty much done.  
> CodeBlue1180 and I came up with another idea, so you won't be without us for long once this one is over.  
> Till then, **Mischief Managed. ******


	12. If I Could, I Would (Erase You of My Mind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters are getting hot again, so mind the warning.  
> My babe is almost done 4 more and it's over.

“We’re not pressing charges, Doctor Amendola,” Wright had just popped my dislocated shoulder into place and was looking at me from under the thick lenses of his spectacles. His hand was soft and cold against my bruised one. The x-rays showed a subluxation of the tendon on my middle finger and fractures of the metacarpal bone on my fourth and fifth fingers, which would require at least 15 days in a cast.

“Thank you, Doctor Wright,” As grateful as I was, there was a but. There was always a but.

“But, you should stay away for a bit,” he said as coldly as he could (pretty much a proud grandpa trying to hide he didn’t think his grandson did wrong) while cleaning the cuts from my fingers. I knew it would happen, a second job, all cause of Welker again and this time I wasn’t even sorry. “Don’t get me wrong Daniel, we’re not firing you,” even though I was hissing, I was pretty relieved.

“I know it doesn’t look like, but I’m glad,” I gave Wright a self-deprecating smile and he laughed back at me.

“You’re a great Doctor, we could never do that to you,” He finished his job on my hand and placed it softly on the counter. “Just take the job offer with the Patriots. I’m retiring, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad job. If I’d gotten it when I was young and single like you? My, my, Boston would be so little.”

“I don’t know,” the thought of having to deal with Welker once again and with Julian being so close, yet so far, wasn’t a good perspective. “Would it be sane to walk right into everything that has been causing me troubles?”

“We have five minutes before Doctor Palmer gets in here with Jamison, do you want to know what I think, son?” Wright looked at me sternly and I nodded. “The fool man thinks bravery is driving into the storm. The sage knows when it’s time to face it.”

“And now you mysteriously disappear, right, Dungeon Master?” I snorted and he just looked at me, raising one of his white and puffy brows. “Just ignore what I said.”

“I’m going to ask you something no one has asked yet and you tell me the truth, Daniel. No sarcastic retorts or jokes. How are you feeling about all of this?”

Wright’s question caught me out of guard. In the whirlwind of the two days that passed, no one had taken time to know how I felt.

Hell, I, myself, didn’t know how I was feeling.

I had been mourning Julian’s loss for almost four years, even though I kept telling myself he was free to date whoever he wanted. Holy crap, I even cried like a kid for a month after I heard about Welker and Julian, sick worried about the kid getting stuck in a ridiculous relationship that would suck the life out of him.

How did I feel?

Miles away from him, something inside me still believed his everything was mine, so it felt like I was relapsing into the addiction that was having him by my side, once again. But how could it be relapsing if I had never let him go? He was everywhere, every day, no matter how hard I tried to hide.

Oh, the things I’d do if I was strong enough.

Like… completely erasing him from my heart and keep our history out of my mind. Stop my crying heart of screaming for him and keep the image of us from making me cry. Or not repeating over and over again the same shitty excuses I gave myself to watch his interviews.

So… How did I feel?

I felt empty without Julian, but most of all, I was mad I couldn’t keep myself in control around him.

I had to learn.

“I’ll be alright,” I lied.

“If you say so,” Wright smiled politely at me.

“Have people told you, you look like Dumbledore,” Emma said, walking in at the exact moment the white-haired man reached for the door. “Minus, you know, the long beard and the hair.”

“Who’s Dumbledore?” He hugged her and turned around to leave, choosing to look back at the last step. “You’ve got a great hook there, Daniel.”

“How are you, Emma?” It was the first thing I asked when Wright left the room. She was smiling and seemed fine, which meant no concussion.

“Forget about me,” the blonde woman sat beside me, tracing my purple cheek with her thumb, while Jamison, a short and fat technician, got things ready for my cast. “I’m alright! The focus here is you. I saw the tape, shit Danny! You have some anger management issues.”

“Some?” Jamison asked wryly.

“Ok, more than some.”

I laughed half-heartedly at her joke; just glad she was ok and said so.

“Don’t give me that bullshit! That has nothing to do with me!” She said, holding my left hand while the fat man put my broken fingers in place. I knew the drill, but that didn’t stop my eyes from watering and the sharp hiss that escaped my mouth.

“Chill Danny Boy,” Jamison gave my recently popped into place shoulder a playful slap, making me freaking whimper. “Sorry, bro; forgot the shoulder. Just keep your fingers where they are.”

“Alright, man. I’m always on the other side supervising the cast and it’s easy to forget how painful this shit is.”

“Why the hell Welker was doing here?” Emma got up as soon the cast was in place.

“Edelman,” there was no need for other words. She knew what I meant and her shock was almost tangible.

“Shit! Oh man,” She murmured, helping me to get up, sling digging on my good shoulder. “We have to talk about it, like, now!”

“I don’t really want to,” I answered, nodding a farewell to Jamison. “And right now, I really need to make a phone call.”

“You don’t need a lawyer,” She made an attempt on lightening the mood that was not really helpful since every face at the Hospital was looking at me and quickly pretending to be doing something else when I looked. Emma seemed to know what was going on my mind, “Come on sexy, just ignore it.”

“No can do,” I answer looking at the ground and she pulled me in the direction of the locker rooms, I still needed to get rid of my scrubs.

“There’s a towel and a plastic bag for you in your locker,” Emma smiled at me and I entered the locker room in a straight line to my locker, finding my phone in the back pocket of my jeans.

“Belichick speaking,” Coach answered on the second ring.

“It’s Danny, sir,” I mumbled, my head leaning against the locker next to mine. If not inside the cast, my hand would be shaking. I was scared as hell and even though there was no other option and I had to do it, part of me kept screaming I was wrong.

“Already told you, It’s Bill,” His tone was light, “Quite a mess you got involved there.”

“I apologize for that, si-, Bill,” putting the phone on speaker mode, I managed to awkwardly remove my sling. “I was trying to defend myself and my co-workers.”

“Yeah, of course, but here in New England, we won’t accept that, kid,” Belichick stopped for a bit, muffling his phone and I took that time to place my phone on my clothes. “Sorry for that, Kyle needs me, so I gotta go. Richard already talked to me. You have full access to training facilities; your card will be waiting for you in the med staff room.”

“Thank you,” making sure the rubber band was properly holding the plastic bag around my cast, I finally relaxed enough to feel relieved for the first time that day.

“Someone in the HR will text you, so you can drop by in a few hours and settle everything up.”

“I’ll be there,” It was going to happen. I’d be working around Julian again, but this time I’d behave and not give into my desire, I’d be the good guy I was raised to be.

Dammit! Times like that I missed Tony.

“Keep in mind we don’t usually give second chances here, boy. See ya.” With that Belichick finished the call.

Things with the HR were simpler than I had imagined it would be. Straightforward questions, short answers and in less than an hour I had my schedule and the rules of what I should wear. I even got a set of Patriots hoodies and shirts.

It was a long restless night, in which I managed to text Sam and talk with Tony for an hour. He tried to help me as much as could, but, honestly, none of us were thrilled about me walking into the eye of the storm.

“Just stay away from Welker and do your Job, bubs,” He had said and I had heard that a thousand times before, it was starting to feel that should be my motto. If that was the case, well, I got hired by the right institution.

I wouldn’t miss another opportunity, not because of Julian nor because of Welker, I told myself time and time again, what made being in the facilities as a part of the medical staff quite the experience. My heart was beating fast enough to make me scared of hyperventilating before I even started.

“Doctor, you’re back!” Rob smiled when he stopped by Richard’s old consulting room, in which I was getting settled, before heading to the field. He hugged me briefly around the waist and sat on the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“New Doc,” I smiled back, taking his report of my desk with my good hand.

“Congrats man,” He patted me on my good shoulder. “What happened there?”

“Long story,” Getting closer, I pointed to the pillow and Rob took off his shirt. “Not as extensive as your file here, though. How can you still be 25?”

“Football, man, football,” He laid down on his stomach. “My back insists I’m 70.”

“You might be,” Pressing lightly the lower part of his back I checked for lumps. On his file, Richard said surgery had occurred flawlessly and his physiotherapy couldn’t be better. “Stomach up and put your shirt on; you didn’t need to do that.”

“And how would you be able to see this fantastic body? Just kidding,” Rob laughed and reached for his shirt. “But for real, is he worse than you?”

“What makes you think I got in a fight? Pull your knees up.”

“Your cheek,” He pointed my face before pulling his knees up to his chest. It would be hilarious to watch a giant man curled up like a kid if that wasn’t my job.

“Forgot it,” My fingers grazed my cheek. It wasn’t hurting or anything, just slightly warmer than it should and a little uncomfortable. “You already know the drill Rob, legs my way, face towards the wall.”

“Come on Doc, tell me he is in bad shape right now,” I could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I’d like to think so,” I admitted. Ok, Welker was obviously worse than I was and even though I was never one for violence, it had been a long time coming. “Pain?”

“No, but I bet he’s feeling it,” Rob sat and put his shirt on.

“Come on Robert, we’re here for your back,” I mumbled, helping him to get up. “Your teammates are on the field now and you’re here.”

“Ok, ok,” He tried to touch his feet. “I kept telling Doctor Wright I’m good!”

After that the session was pretty quick, Rob obeying my commands and making jokes about his two surgeries.

“See you later, Doc,” The Tight End said when we reached the field twenty minutes later. He ran towards the other receivers and against my own will, I found myself scanning the field trying to find the number eleven in the sea of players.

Stopping next to Shannahan, the Offensive Coordinator, I fought my urges of following Julian with my eyes and stood there chatting absent-mindedly with the staff members I had been introduced earlier that morning.

If I hadn’t been looking towards the receivers, the curse Kyle huffed would have warned me a player was down. In that case, I had seen Julian; his eyes had met mine and the next second he was down, his hands on his right thigh and I was flying across the field, desperately hoping it was nothing.

“Holy Fuck,” Julian said, muffled by his shoulder when I kneeled next to him. “Shit! It hurts!”

“Stop!” I ordered, but he kept rolling his body side to side. “Fuck Julian, I broke my hand so I can’t force you to stop, but you got to or no one will be able to take a look at your thigh!”

“What?” He finally stopped and looked at me, completely confused.

“Please, take off your hand of your thigh and we’ll get you off the field, so I can do what I’m supposed to do,” Julian raised an eyebrow quizzically in my direction, but did nothing to prevent when two other Doctors raised him and helped him out of the field.

We were heading back inside the stadium to get Julian examined, when Wes tried to stop me by holding my bad shoulder, making me hiss in pain.

“You’re not fucking touching him,” He almost yelled when I turned around and prevented him from launching himself at me with my good arm.

“Wes? What are you doi-,” Julian started, but I ignored him.

“Jesus, Welker,” I put my good hand up in a rendition sign. “You’re in no condition of picking a fight and neither am I. So, just… back off, ok? For him, please?!” Welker looked in Julian’s direction and I could see all the anger disappearing from his face, being replaced by fear. It was Julian and me again, I could see the reasons why he would be frightened, so I was really relieved when he looked back at me and nodded. “See, that ain’t hard.”

“You just-, don’t you dare…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, but I knew what he meant and I was done with that shit. It was not that I didn’t want Julian, hell no, I was just full of Welker always making me lose my temper and my jobs, so I just breathed out.

“I’m not you Welker, and you know what I mean,” I looked at him in the only eye that was not swollen and half-expected him to pick a fight again but he just looked back towards Julian. “I’m tired of you walking everywhere I am and losing your shit. Already lost two jobs ‘cause of you, ain’t happening a third time. So calm down, sir, let me do my job and I’ll come back and give you my medical statement on your fiancé’s injury,” I said with all the venom I could muster.

“Could someone, please, tell me what the fuck is going on?” Julian’s tone was almost pleading and I turned myself to look at him again. “What do you mean two jobs?”

It wasn’t possible.

How could he not know?

Fear was creeping into Welker’s voice when he spoke, “Just go, we’ll talk later, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that,” Julian said way too fast to be a one-time thing.

"Hey, forget that," I said catching Julian's attention and just because I wanted to make Welker pay, when we were moving again, I added, "Come on, kiddo, let's get you checked."

"Ok," He agreed absented-mindedly, but loud enough for his fiancé to hear. Welker was completely taken aback and frozen in his place when we disappeared into the corridors.

Ignoring completely the questioning eyes the other Doctors had and thanking them once they helped Julian to lay onto the same bed Rob had been before, I asked them to get the x-ray room ready and to make sure Welker was not somewhere he shouldn’t. They exchanged a look before nodding and running out of the room.

“Alrig,-”

“What the fuck you doing here?” Julian lashed all his anger on his voice once we were alone. He was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling.

“Fucking fair,” I muttered to myself, moving in his direction, heart on my throat. He was hurt and confused, my own nature could wait, after all, I promised I would do things right. “Look Jul,- Edelman, I was in negotiation with the organization to work here before your fiancé invaded the hospital I worked at and attack me and my co-workers,” He rolled his eyes and I knew exactly where his thoughts were. “I’m not here because of you, swear on Texas burgers. Belichick’s the one to blame.”

Julian’s shoulders relaxed and he finally looked at me, his face an emotionless mask and I knew he was kinda disappointed with my answer.

“I just… I need to know, why now? What’s happening?” He asked, closing his eyes and covering it with his arms.

I stopped right next to the bed and fighting the cynical laugh wanting to get out, I said, “No Idea, but you jealous fiancé might have an idea.”

“Can we skip the part where you are a sarcastic shit and I’m confused as fuck? Just do it,” Julian urged me and biting my lower lip, I obliged, touching his tight.

I honestly didn’t know if he was moaning in pain or because it had been a while since I touched him in such a private area. Trying to be as professional as possible, I got his gray training short up.

Of course, I professionally didn’t notice how time had made his thigh much firmer than it used to be or how I could feel his leg’s hairs. Or how his skin was burning my hand or how blood decided to go south.

“You have to tell me when it hurts,” Wetting my lips, I breathed in trying to keep my reactions from showing.

“Holy fuck,” Julian swore out loud, throwing his head back. It probably was my fault, but the insertion of the muscle was right beside his balls and even though I never actually touched it, my hand was so close. “No,” He muttered, his voice shaking.

Slowly inhaling and fighting hard to keep my left hand steady, I moved my hand upwards to the next insertion. It was impossible not to feel his dick starting to harden when I pressed the Sartorius insertion and for heaven’s sake, my will was not that strong to keep my body from having a similar reaction.

“Shit,” He hissed.

“It’s ah,- a completely normal- normal reaction,” Nearly at the edge of breaking my professional conduct. “I can ask someone else to examine you, would you like that?” I asked not really wanting to know the answer.

“No,” Julian said, finally taking his arm away from his eyes and meeting mine with his blue eyes, his pupils blown wide. “It’s ok, nothing you ain’t seen before, right?”

“Mister Edelman, please,” I forced myself to look at his leg and it didn’t help, his erection right there. “Turn around.”

He rolled on the bed and showed me his fantastic ass, to which I had to fight hard not to grab. Pressing the insertion of his femoral biceps, I got a loud moan from him and obviously, there was pain involved.

“Distension, lucky enough,” There was no swelling or redness and as a member of the team, I was glad. As an ex-lover, I was starting to get dizzy from the blood rushing south and it was a miracle I was able to speak.

“Lucky, indeed,” Julian’s voice was muffled by his arm, making me look up to find him with one of his hand buried in his own hair, pulling it tightly.

“Hum, do you, I can, if you,” I stumbled with my words, stepping away from the bed and looking away from him.

Everything I shouldn’t be doing was happening right there. The first day and I was already fucking shit up.

“I’m no Doctor, but…” He was sitting on the bed and definitely not trying to hide his tented shorts. “I’m pretty sure this,” he pointed at himself and then at my situation, “wasn’t supposed to be happening.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not sure my voice was loud enough for him to hear me. “Ain’t happening again and my apologies if I’ve made you uncomfortable, Mister Edelman.” Forcing my voice out, I looked into his eyes to prove him I was honest.

“Fuck it Dola,” Julian ran his fingers through his hair and bit his lip before starting again, his voice hoarse, “If you ever call me Mister Edelman again, I’ll be forced to call you professor.”

“Julian,” I warned him and was rewarded with his laugh.

“There’s no pretense here,” He said when he finally stopped and I was taken aback by how much I missed that sound. “I fucking miss your hands on me.”

“Julian,” I said once again, shoving my hands in my pockets to relieve some of the pressure on my dick. His voice was making things to me I’d forgotten it was able to. “I can’t-, I’m not doing this.”

“Doing what?” Julian attempted to move and moaned in pain, making me rush into the mistake that was getting close again. Before I had any reaction, he grabbed my hips with both of his hands and pulled me closer, awkwardly bringing our dicks together through the clothes. “Fuck,” he groaned. “I was always honest Danny. This shit can’t happen, but it’s here. I’m not going to start lying right now, I’m not fucking lying when I say I fucking need you,” He moved his hips as to prove a point and I couldn’t hold the moan that escaped my lips.

“It can’t- can’t,” I tried to fight and placed my good hand on his chest.

“Don’t pull away professor,” He muttered and buried his nose in my neck.

The feeling of his mouth on my pulse point nearly undid me. “Don’t do this to me, kiddo,” I whispered under my ragged breath. “You’re engaged.”

“You still my old man,” The blonde insisted.

“Your old man is out there,” I deserve a fucking award for how much I was resisting, even if his ear was two breaths away from my mouth.

“Never as good as you,” He bit my neck. He fucking sank his teeth into my neck.

All those years, no one got me that close of coming by biting me.

“Fuck Julian,” I broke free from his grip and crossed the room, putting as much space between us as I could. “I’m not doing this here. I’m not saying I don’t want, cause I fucking want and I’m ignoring everything else when I say call me. My number is in the files and Jack is coming back to take you to the x-rays.”

Not taking him there, leaving the room and ensuring for the first time around him I did the right thing, was the bravest thing I had ever done and it tasted like shit. He was right there, offering himself and I didn’t do absolutely anything.

Returning to the field, after assuring Jack, the other Doctor, that it was pretty much sure his injury was a distension to the femoral biceps and that Julian only needed an anti-inflammatory, got me a place in heaven. I even managed to avoid Welker and his annoying ass.

Belichick eyed me suspiciously but shrugged and called me over to help him with Rob. After an hour Julian came back with Jack, walking straight to the bikes and the coach smiled at me like he was proud.

I had never seen Belichick smile before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,  
> My schedule lately has been kinda crazy and starting another long fanfic is making it even crazier.  
> SO PLEEEEEASE, comment and tell me what are you guys think of this one.  
> Love Y'all.


	13. Plus, We Got History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS IS KINKY!**   
>    
>    
>  you've been warned!    
> 

Practice was so great, working the rest of it with Jerry and Alad- Garoppolo on his footwork to eliminate the risk of breaking his ankle and to improve his follow through. By the end of the day, the kid’s impressive quick release was even quicker and the receivers training with no gloves on had to go back to the locker and fetch them, cause Garoppolo’s throws started to hurt.

“What have you done to Guacamole?” Rob said, catching up to me at the parking lot after the medical group was allowed to leave the field following a brief gathering with the coaches.

“Ha! He’s quick, right?!” I smiled at Rob, genuinely pleased with myself and how professionally I had approached practice. Well, considering Julian was still there.

“He’s a freaking monster,” We were right next to my car and Rob’s face that until that moment had a childish expression of excitement, suddenly turned into a mask of shock. “Holy shit, Doc!” He raised his hands in rendition and I raised an eyebrow in confusion. “He’s so much worse than you are,” Rob laughed, incredulously, at something behind my back and turned around saying bye, leaving me alone and with almost no time to prepare for being irritated till death.

“You said you’d tell me how he was,” Came in after the push.

“Fuck off, Welker!” I tried not to scream and make a scene for the players and co-workers around us. “Don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t there when Julian came back. I wasn’t the one on the X-rays, so I wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, of course! You didn’t walk in with him, fucker!” He said, puffing his chest and trying to sound intimidating. If you asked me he looked quite pathetic, all bothered his fiancé had been alone with me. Knowing how he had been the one to blame on our forced break-up, I would’ve been too if I were him.

“You know what?” I unlocked my car and looked at him dead in the eyes, in that case, the only visible eye. “I’m a Doctor of the New England Patriots Organization and sorry, but this is not a hospital where I’m obliged to give you information. Even if it was, you’re not family.” With one leg inside my car, I smirked ready for the last blow to his ego. “You. Are. Not. His. Husband.” Closing the door after me, I started my car while Welker was dead frozen on his spot, the cuts on his mouth bleeding a little from being pressed too hard into a thin line. “And I don’t think he’s going to be.”

All the way to the supermarket, through the process of picking things I needed back home and then on the ride home, I couldn’t suppress the maniac grin on my face, proud of myself cause I had finally behaved like a decent human being who wants to keep its job and didn’t throw a punch to that awful man. The best part of it, the reason behind it was not my cast, cause if I wanted I could’ve used it to hit Welker. No, I just didn’t care enough to hurt him.

“Doctor Amendola,” I answered the phone without looking at the caller's ID and put it between my shoulder and my ear so I could unlock the door. I kicked the door, trying as best as I could to hold the paper bag full of groceries with my bad arm and nearly tumbled with the answer.

“Professor,” Julian’s voice on the other side of the line had my heart speeding up and my mouth dry.

“Julian,” Forcing myself to walk to my kitchen, I placed the bag on the counter, trying to ignore the way his name sounded good rolling off my lips. “I get that you found my file.”

“Not that hard,” Finally taking the phone in my hand again, I couldn’t help but laugh at Julian’s joke. “Pun intended, old man.”

“I know it was,” I said ignoring the shivers at the old nickname and placing the things I bought in its respective places. “I know a thing or two about you, kiddo.”

“Now I’m kiddo?” I heard something move behind Julian through the line and wondered what was he doing that he could call me and talk like that, no Welker buggering.

“I gotta behave at work and you know that, you minx,” I laughed and he followed me, till we both had to stop to breathe. It felt good to talk to Julian like in the old days, just the both of us saying stupid shit just to tease the other, but I knew it wasn’t true. “Why are we doing this, Julian?”

“This what, Daniel?” He said; obviously annoyed at the change of paths our conversation took.

“This game, where we pretend your fiancé doesn’t exist and that you’ll be here in twenty to watch the Champions league reprise or any La Liga game with me. Then we’ll have lazy sex on the couch ‘cause you’ve been teasing me all day long,” I said, trying to smooth the lines on my frown with thumb and my index and finally finishing with my groceries.

Julian knew how to press all my buttons and how to get me jumping out of my skin like no one else had ever dreamed, so of course, I was tired of that game. I had been on the edge ever since I caught that white blur tackling Rob to the ground and there was no way he didn’t know that. Because if I did know a thing or two about him, then Julian had an entire book on me and all the ways to get me to bend at his wish.

“Wes is on his flight back home,” Was all Julian said and it took me a second to let the weight of his words sink in. If that meant what I wanted it to mean, my night would finish the way I had just predicted and though my body was starting to agree, I knew I wouldn’t forgive myself.

“And what does that even mean?” Letting my frustration out in my words, I walked out of the kitchen with my cast cover, ready to take a shower and work the stress out of my body.

“It means,” Julian started slowly as if measuring what he was going to say. “That whatever we choose to do, we don’t have to worry about him around the corner waiting.”

“So tell me, what are we gonna do?” I fell onto my bed with a groan.

“Fuck,” he mumbled on the other side. “Not fair, Dola.”

“I fucking dislocated my shoulder! Sometimes it hurts,” I answered, laughing in disbelief.

“I know… I know,” The line went quiet and I was hit with how simple it was, after all that time, to just be in silence with him, listening to his breath. “Listen, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Do you believe that?” I hissed in pain after removing my sling, shoulder warning me to take things slow.

“I just want my friend and to watch whoever’s playing Real Madrid,” Julian’s voice sounded so tired at that moment, I couldn’t say no to him. “You’re the one who told me how to get your number.”

“You do realize still to this day you kill me, Julian?” I answered and he laughed on the other side of the line. “If you want beer, you’ll have t- wait, no! I’m your Doctor, you shouldn’t be drinking! You should be taking your medicine as well!”

“I’m bringing Mountain Dew and you get us pizza.”

“Real Madrid’s game is on in like an hour,” I informed Julian. Getting my clothes, I went to the bathroom.

“Text me and I’ll be at your door in forty. See ya in a bit, old man!” He said before hanging up.

Hoping Julian’s taste hadn’t changed a bit, I called my favorite pizza place right after I texted him my address, then tossing my phone over my discarded shirt, I got ready to get rid of my khakis. I was half-way done with the uncomfortable process when the idea stroke me, maybe if when Julian arrived I had already ‘taken care’ of my situation, I wouldn’t be as horny and the guy jumping on a man who had a fiancé. Considering all the stress I had been through, that Julian was back into my life, and still wanted me all things aside, it didn’t take me a lot to jump on that train.

Underwear thrown to the hamper, I jumped under the hot spray of water and let my mind drift to the man it would always go, but I had a new memory to add and fuck if it wasn’t hot.

_I’m not fucking lying when I say I fucking need you._

My left hand was wrapping around my dick and moving up and down in a matter of seconds, not even awkward, ambidextrously to thank. His voice and his body still loud in my head, but, perhaps, the worse was my heart, beating up fast at the simple thought he’d be home with me, not in a sexual way, simply sharing my place with me once again. Close, smiling and watching a match like we should.

The thought got a loud moan out of me. The comfort mixed with the raw need of taking care and making him happy again making me weak on the knees and very aware of the fact that what I felt for him was still there and hadn’t diminished with the years.

Julian’s voice saying professor was the last thing on my mind before I came, hot and heavy on the bathroom tiles.

It wasn’t a simple kink, I had tried that with other people. It was a Julian thing. The way his lips would wrap around the word and then smile sexily to undo me. He was the only one that managed to get me like that.

The problem was, I didn’t feel better and lighter after coming, I was all hot and bothered, feeling like I’d done something wrong. So after washing myself thoroughly, I turned off the shower and stopped there for a second, head against the steamed shower glass.

Resisting the destructive impulse of punching something, I grabbed a towel and was in the middle of drying my hair when the doorbell rang.

“Just a second,” I yelled at the door. Evan had been quick with the pizza, faster than the twenty minutes he usually took. I didn’t bother to put the clothes I had brought, just wrapped the towel around my waist. Evan was used to it by now and even the longing looks the nerdy teenager gave me had vanished sometime around the tenth time he’d seen me shirtless. It had been very uncomfortable the first time and I had apologized a thousand times, but the boy’s timing was terrible, always catching me at goddam awful moments. The last time I was in jeans and completely gave up throwing a shirt on. He was so comfortable with my semi-nakedness that he even complimented my abs.

“You’re early, boy,” I said loud enough for him to hear, while I was running to the living room, fishing my key off the table. “Hey Ki-,” My voice got stuck in my throat and my hand froze at the doorknob.

Standing there, wearing my jersey, the one I’d given to him, was Julian, a Mountain Dew pack in one of the hands and eyes moving down my body.

“I- I- I-,” His eyes were wide and he bit his lower lip seemingly lost for words.

Very self-conscious of how barely covered I was in front of him, only the towel between my complete nakedness and Julian, I could feel the heat spreading from my face to my neck. I was certainly blushing hard, but I couldn’t move or say anything, eyes glued to my jersey.

He had kept it.

I must have been a sight, mouth slightly open, eyes half-lidded, hand still on the door and with drops of water running down my chest, but all I could think of was how Julian looked good wearing my shit.

“Danny, man, it looks like I’m not the only one you put into a daze,” Evan’s voice snapped me out my haze as the boy walked towards my place. I had completely forgotten he was bringing the pizza. “I was like that the first time I saw him in a tow- HOLY SHIT YOU’RE JULIAN EDELMAN!”

“I- hum, yeah, that’s me,” Julian said shaking his head a bit, his voice hoarse.

“I’m Evan,” the black haired boy was almost bouncing on his feet, his huge green eyes making him look like what a Disney character would be in real life. “Huge fan! Like, I’ve been following you ever since the combine! You so lit!”

“Thank you,” Julian smiled at the ground and I wondered how he could still be so cute when embarrassed.

“Can I have an autograph? Or a photo? Both?” Evan’s smile was almost painfully big.

“Of course, but I have no pen,” Julian nodded and like the third part, I watched, leaned against the doorframe, an amused grin to my lips, as The boy fetched a piece of paper and a pen from his sweatpants pockets.

“Oh bro,” Evan handed me the pizza and gave me an ok sign, “Doing an awesome job keeping the shape,” I snorted and went inside to get his money and place the pizza on the center table of the living room.

When I got back Julian and Evan had already taken a picture and the teenager was rambling about coming out, while Julian seemed to be trying to contain his laughter. Standing at the doorstep, I paid for the pizza with a nice tip for Evan.

“Julian, it’s so cool to meet ya!” He said shaking Julian’s hand then he turned to me. “Seriously, so hot!” Waving a two fingers salute, Evan made his way to the elevators.

“That boy’s gotta a mouth. Swear to God he’s gonna have trouble in the future,” I said laughing and motioned for Julian to walk in.

“You and the pizza boy? That young, Old man?” Julian raised an eyebrow and stopped in front of me under the doorframe. His blue eyes shining with mischief, but I was pretty sure I had caught a hint of jealousy in his tone.

“Oh yeah,” I started nodding mockingly. “It’s been three years, but I’m waiting till next year when he’ll be nineteen. You know how I like kids that age.”

“Really, Dola? Looks like we both downgraded a lot,” his smirk was gone. Jealous Julian was one of my favorite sides of him.

“Come on, Julian! The poor kid only has the worst timing ever. He’s seen me shirtless so many times now that he just compliments it,” Looking Julian in the eyes, I continued with the unavoidable cliché answer, “And anything after you is a downgrade.”

Sensing Julian was about to close the gap between us, I walked further into my apartment. My body screaming I was stupid for not getting what it needed, but my conscience kept telling me I’d done the right thing, not giving in and kissing him on my doorstep like we were together once more.

“I need to put some clothes on,” I said, my voice stronger than I really felt.

“Don’t bother because of me,” Julian said closing the door behind him and walking into the living room, placing the Mountain Dews beside the pizza.

“Jules,” was my only warning.

“If you’re into this naked-in-your-apartment thing now, I can actually follow your new tendencies,” He said, faking innocence.

Groaning with the effort of not jumping on him there, with my cast cover still on my arm, I looked at the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, checking if the curtain was completely closed. “Turn on the TV; the game will be on in a bit.”

“Will we really watch the game, Professor?” His sultry tone had me half-hard even when I had had a wank fifteen minutes before.

Just like that, my resolve was gone.

“Fuck no,” I said resigned, holding the towel to avoid it falling to the ground. “Half-way through it, we’ll probably be banging six-ways till Monday.”

“Love you, even more, when you’re honest," Julian blurted out, realizing a second too late what he had said. My feet decided to move slowly towards him, the feelings were there and that was all I could think. I knew for a thousand reasons we shouldn’t, he was engaged and even though I didn’t feel the least bit inclined to respect his fiancé, that sting a bit. “Fuck! It’s been three days and I’ve already said it! Sorry Do-”

Julian never had the time to finish his sentence, my lips colliding with his almost four years too late.

Using his gasp to slide my tongue into his mouth and my good hand to pull his body closer by his waist, I had the pleasure of feeling him trembling before kissing me back with all he had. The way we fit together was almost magical, his hands making their way up my chest and then his arms encircling my neck as we moved to my couch, my towel on the floor.

However, not everything was the same. Julian had changed his cologne, his body was firmer, his beard had grown a bit and the worst was not even the fact that he had really gotten his perfect blonde locks cut. No, the worst part was the way I could feel his tongue moving differently than it used to when we kissed almost every day, reminding me that he had been kissing another man for a couple years.

“Shit Julian,” I murmured when we finally stopped kissing, Julian straddling me, both of us breathing hard and our foreheads touching. “I can’t do it! I can feel him when you kiss me.”

“Never good enough,” He said rubbing ass on me and getting me rock hard and even though his jeans were uncomfortable on my skin, his proximity was the best feeling I had in years. “Tried to teach him, but it wasn’t you.”

“I can’t ask you to do it,” Julian took off the jersey and I simply had to kiss all the skin I could. “I respect you and your relationship,” I mumbled in between kisses and bites on his chest, avoiding to leave marks.

My body was telling me to go and I really wanted it, but my heart was hurting, beating faster than it should, begging to claim him as mine once again, showing his said fiancé I had power over his body and that his love for me was one of the things Welker couldn’t take away from me.

“Is this really what you want to talk about now?” And knowing my body as well as he did, he bit hard the junction of my neck with my shoulder. I moaned so loud it was almost a scream. “Fuck, so responsive.”

“You’re killing me,” The last restrains I had left my body after Julian got up and opened his fly, showing me he had gone commando. My mouth was dry with the sight of his hairless crotch. Then he turned around and marched into the corridor.

All I could do was follow him, “First to your left.”

Julian didn’t really need my instructions, it was the first opened door. He just moved effortlessly through my apartment, just like he seemed to do with everything in my life.

Suppressing the string of courses that tried to escape from me at the sight of him on all fours on my bed, milky-freckled skin contrasting the deep blue sheets, I crawled till I was behind him.

“I got a surprise for you professor,” The fucking pet names. That earned him a slap on the ass and made me happy that I still knew how to make him moan like a starved man. “Fuuuuuuck! More!” His moans muffled by the pillows where he was hiding his head.

I laughed in denial, it couldn’t be possible Welker was so vanilla that he didn’t realize Julian liked to be manhandled, slapped and owned within the four walls. I knew I should be making sweet love to him to get my soul some kind of relieve, but if he had been missing that for long years, I wouldn’t be the one to refuse.

“Tell me it’s not true he doesn’t know how to treat the cum whore you are!” Julian was kinky as I was and the way he moaned louder and wiggled his still covered ass, making me aware that either Welker had been neglecting his kinks or didn’t even knew about it. I couldn’t help but slap his ass again harsher than before.

“Danny,” Julian looked over his shoulder and bit his lip.

He had been neglected and I wouldn’t let that happen, not on my watch. I was going to give Julian a little reminder of what he was going to miss when he finally got married.

“Fuck Julian!” I buried my good hand into his hair and yanked him up till he was on his knees, his naked back against my torso. “You’re a possessive little shit and you telling me he’s been denying you of getting your ass red?” Julian only moaned my name and threw his hips against mine. “No! We can’t have that!” I slapped his ass a third time and after biting lightly his neck, I let his hair go forcefully.

“Professor, I need more!” He said, reaching his pants to get them down. I was about to stop him when I caught the sight of a blue plug stretching his hole. I was pretty sure the growl that left me was not human.

“You knew, you teaser,” I reached to touch it with the tip of my index, completely transfixed with the object.

“It’s us, Daniel,” Julian looked over his shoulder and gave me the cocky smile I loved. “Our sex it’s a show everyone should watch. We’re hot as fu-aaaah!” Oh, his sound when I pulled the plug was a hell of a sinful melody.

“I’m gonna show you what you’re going to miss,” no warning, I shoved my fingers into his needy hole already slicked with lube. Fuck, he was so hot!

“I’m ready! Fuck me!” That was too much. Jumping to the side to get to my nightstand I pulled a condom and lube. “Don’t be careful!”

“I never intended to be,” I said slipping the condom onto myself. In a smooth shift of my hips, I was all the way in and shit, it felt like home. It was almost transcendental, like all the things he had been missing altogether in a simple motion.

After that, we were a mess of touches, slaps, sloppy kisses, erratic thrusts and a cacophony of sounds. It was just too good not to lose myself in it, not caring about what would happen later when guilt hit me. Julian came screaming my name at the same time I came moaning his on his shoulder and that was all that mattered.

“We can’t repeat this, you know, right?” Julian said later when we were fully dressed, watching the second half of the game, eating meat-lovers pizza and drinking Mountain Dew. “I really love it Danny, but we can’t.”

“I know,” My heart was shattered, but I knew that was the way things would go. In his own way, Julian loved Wes and I couldn’t ruin that, even though he was the reason we broke up in the first place. Maybe they had a more developed solid relationship than I thought.

The problem was that over the years that had gone by, I had this perfect image of Julian that at that moment started to feel like wasn't real. If the months we had were something to go by, then he was my flawless fit everyone looked for all their lives.

“I think I should go,” He mumbled after a few minutes of silence. Getting up, he looked at me, his face an expressionless mask. I knew he was going on a guilt-trip, the same one I’d be embarking later, but I just wanted to hug him and make that go.

“Before you go, Jules,” I got up facing him, it was the last time I’d address to us as a couple. “You and I, we got history,” Julian smiled sadly and I simply smiled back, lost in our moment. “I still love you and you still love me. We go way back, babe. I bet he’s sweet when he’s around you, he tries to be perfect and everything to deserve you. Really I can see why! You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met. But deep down we all know I’m the perfect one for you.”

“When did you become the cocky one?” Julian moved toward the door and I followed desperate, hugging him from behind. He melted into my touch and laid his head on my bad shoulder.

“I’m not cocky, I just know it,” I answered kissing his forehead as sweetly as I could. “If this is not home as it is for me, then I’ll be happy to not go to your wedding cause your fiancé hates me. But if I’m right, it’s you and I. So, just think about it.”

“Dola,” He mumbled his hand in my hair. “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked honestly curious as to what he was thanking me for.

Spinning to look at me, his hands cupping my jaw, Julian simply kissed me chastely. “For not making this any easier.”

I smirked against his lips, “You were the one to pursue the untouchable professor.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” Julian said, him pulling my body closer to his by my waist denying every intention he had of stepping away. “Can we just be friends through the OTA’s?”

“I won’t be able to keep to myself if you keep teasing me,” I mumbled, trying to put space between us.

“I love you, Danny,” He whispered before opening the door.

“Quite right,” Smiling, I looked at my jersey. “You know I love you too.”

“We’ll be good friends. See you in the morning, Doc,” Julian winked and walked away from my apartment.

I watched my jersey disappearing into the elevator before sliding down to the floor and let loose the tears that were threatening to fall the moment he turned around, only a thought going over and over my head.

_Please, remember us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm embarrassed by this chapter!  
> But hey, you guys never got to see how they were when they were having sex and comfortable with telling each other their kinks!  
> If you like country music, you'll like our next work!


	14. Wraped Around Your Finger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some football and some Instagraming!

_Sorry, I really shouldn’t ha-_

_Don’t apologize!_

~~~~~~~~~~

_Are you sure?_

_More than anything in my life Sam._

~~~~~~~~~~

_Why do you have to be so hot?_

_It’s hard being your friend when I know what you’re like when you’re naked in my room._

_We gotta let go one more time._

_Just one?_

_Okay, a dozen times._

~~~~~~~~~~

OTA’s were hell.

My job was my favorite thing in the world and for some reason being away from the hospital didn’t diminish how I felt towards practicing medicine and more than ever I felt like I belonged somewhere. Everyone liked me and I liked everyone.

The problem was that I liked one of them more than I should and it made three weeks a living hell for me, even though Sam was there for the third week, around the same time I had my cast removed. We shared some much-needed bro’s time and I even introduced Julian and Sam. They bonded so fucking quickly that I was left speechless.

“How are you two not together? Fuck Welker!” I had been asking the same question to myself quite a lot those weeks.

That was how the time before Chris’ wedding went by, me questioning why Julian hadn’t chosen me, committing mistakes and sleeping together a few more times.

I was glad to have some time away from Julian when I stepped onto the plane. If anyone had told me I’d be flying back to Kent, replaying all the sex Julian and I had had, I’d have said the person was going nuts. However, there was I, after a four-hour long flight, sitting in Chris’ SUV, head leaning against the window, watching as Kent got closer with every passing second.

“You suck as a groomsman,” Chris said mockingly. Our friendship was one of the best things in my life even after all that shit we had been through. “You’re not even listening to my complaints you sucker.”

“I just never thought I’d be back, you know?” I answered honestly, fitting the morning sky.

“Yeah, it’s weird,” He nodded, looking straight ahead. Chris looked tired as fuck in his grey sweatpants and matching hoodie. It had been a ride for Ashley and him, and honestly, I couldn’t help much being far, but I had done everything I could to buck the place, get a nice band and even a limo for his bachelor party, even though I knew I was never going to get there in time to take part in it. “And with Julian being here, it’s probably weirder.”

I was stuck looking at my jeans, trying to digest what he had just said, “Julian what?”

“I thought-, you don’t really check your Instagram, do you?” Chris spared me a quickly reprehensive glance and I only shook my head. “He’s been here ever since your OTA’s were over. He’s one of my groomsmen as well. I must have forgotten to tell you.”

As quickly as possible, I got my phone from my pocket, opening the Instagram app and finding Julian’s account. He was shirtless, only wearing red sweat shorts and his cleats on his stories and I really appreciated how his skin was glistening with sweat. I was so caught up in seeing him training that I almost lost the golden band on Julian’s necklace, which was weird cause I could see Julian’s engagement ring on his hand.

“Hey, do you know why Julian has a ring on his necklace?” I asked, looking the little video over and over again. I couldn’t look away from that ring, something inside me telling there was a story behind that.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to tell you that, bubs,” Chris’ answer was so dismissively that I had to look back at him. “Look, if you really want to know, you’ll have to ask him. Anyways,” He cut me and pointed the so familiar street where Tom lived. “Tom’s gonna have us cause Ashley might try to kill me if I as much as try to put my feet on the front porch.”

“I ain’t disobeying that woman,” I laughed as Chris pulled over Tom’s front yard, where the man himself, Eli, Tony and Aaron were waiting for us.

Tom and I usually saw each other two times a year, one in Montana, for his get-away weekend and one in Boston at the Economic Forum, to which he attended every year as a speaker the world conference. Harvard really seemed to love Tom, but then again, who didn’t?

Seeing the professor/Benjamin Button and my favorite guys there, smiling at me reminded me that the friendships I had made in that town were more than any stupid people that hated me. They were all in practice attire and Tony even had a glove on one of his hands.

“Am I interrupting practice?” I asked getting out of the car and moving toward Tom’s Giant house, my baggage forgotten in the trunk.

“Of course you are,” Tom was the first one to hug him. “We need more receivers.”

“For some reason we all were quarterbacks,” Tony was there right after Tom.

I had been missing those guys a fucking lot.

Hugging everyone, I felt like home. As if, they were supposed to be in Boston with me, or I should try to come back to Kent just to be with them.

“We have three Wide Receivers for six quarterbacks,” Eli said putting his hand on my shoulder and leading me to Tom’s Backyard as the guys followed us. “I’m not into the mathematic shit the guys are, but even I know that’s not really good.”

“I missed you, Loverboy,” Aaron walked past me patting my shoulder and ran to pick a football from the grass. Tom had a barbecue area, a huge pool and lots of green area in his house, but I was used to that. What I wasn’t expecting to see was Julian running routes, the same exact way he had been on his Instagram stories.

“Go change your clothes,” Tony gave me a little nudge. I turned around slowly, reluctantly taking my eyes of Julian, which had just realized I was there. Chris gave me my bag and I moved quickly to the bathroom next to the barbecue area.

How had I let slip the hour his stories were posted? Well, sure there were no Quarterbacks on it, but I should’ve recognized Tom’s house, I knew it quite well not to.

Changed from jeans and a plain white t-shirt to sweat shorts I stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the guys, leaving my bag next to the big outdoors table. I couldn’t care less if the last marks Julian had left in me were still there, lightly fading after three-days. The fact everyone in the backyard and Julian himself could see I belonged to someone.

“Still fucking Picasso, Danny?” Eli asked playfully and I could see Julian coming back of a route, smug smile on his face after hearing the sentence. I simply rolled my eyes at Eli, even though I was proud as fuck.

“You know that shit you’re wearing is atrocious, right?” I said avoiding his questions and ignoring Tony’s stare. How could Eli be wearing a New York Giants Jersey? I was born and raised as a Cowboy’s fan, that ridiculous shirt was hurting my eyes.

“I told him!” Ryan got closer and hugged me quickly as he finally stopped throwing, Randy following him and patting my shoulder.

“It’s offensive to me!” Julian’s pitch was high and I knew he was really offended. I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Hey Doc,” He smiled back at me as sweet as he could and came to hug me. My legs were trembling when his arms enveloped my waist and I had to fight myself not to bury my nose in his neck, taking in his smell. “He says he’s my friend,” He continued after letting go of me and making me remember why I wasn’t so happy to see him there, all hot and sweaty. I needed time. “He has a fucking Odell’s jersey and not mine! Look at Tom, he’s wearing my Jersey!”

“I’m not hearing you two complaining about that piece of trash Tony calls tank-top!” Eli grimaced pointing to Tony’s Cowboy’s tank-top.

“It’s not OBJ’s, is it?” Julian shrugged and turned to me. “You playing Old man?” He asked giving me a mischievous look, to which I answered with a raised eyebrow and stretching as best as a could, giving him a good vision of my ass. The movement had the exact effect I wanted, Julian went quiet and started to shift his weight from a foot to another, visibly uncomfortable.

“Oh, come on you two!” Aaron said while receiving a ball Tom tossed him. “That has to stop!” I could feel my cheeks reddening, but continued stretching, changing positions. Julian cleared his throat and looked away. “You are on my team, Lover Boy,” Aaron told me as he tossed the ball back to Tom. Julian shot him a confused look at the name and Eli and I shared a knowingly smile.

“Jules, you’re on my team,” Chris pulled Julian closer to Tom and I took a seat on the grass, stretching my legs.

“We are playing Defense first, ok?” Tony warned me while spinning a ball in his hands.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Who’s playing QB first?”

“Tony,” Randy answered. “Aaron is faster receiving, so Cowboys then Cheese.”

“Ha, very funny Randy,” Aaron adjusted his Packers cap.

We lined up, Randy the taller one in our team covering Chris, Aaron on Eli and of course, the only one left to cover was Julian.

“This better be two-hand touch ‘cause if Julian gets hurt it’s my ass Belichick will be after,” I said looking at everyone before looking back to a pair of blue eyes.

“Two hands or tackle we are both being killed,” Julian whispered, not looking at me. I knew what he was talking about and he was right. No matter it was going to be hell for both of us. “Shirtless with my marks, Dola?”

“Distracted and easier to cover,” I smirked.

Ryan blew the whistle and we started, Julian was quick but I knew the slot WR routes with my eyes closed. He faked step in and didn’t expect me to get in time what he was doing, so I played pretend and jumping like a goalkeeper, I deflected the ball inches before it reached Julian’s hand.

“HELL YEAH!” Tony shouted from his seat.

“Forget to tell you kiddo,” I got up and said as cocky as I could. “It wasn’t that the NFL didn’t want me. I didn’t want the NFL.”

Shocked and wide-eyed, Julian went back to our scrimmage line to start their second try. Play after play we were on each other, step for step. However, I was as lucky as Murphy’s Law allowed me to be and on a fourth try after two first downs, we were pretty much one. I didn’t watch his left feet and Julian didn’t see me going right, it was probably a misstep of one of us, but we were tripping over and I ended up on top of Julian, my head on his sweaty, muscular chest and my chest on his abs.

Forgetting for a second everyone was looking at us to know if we were alright, I ran my finger down Julian’s chest to the ring he kept on his necklace. It was fairly simple, an almost see through blue gemstone in a platinum band and in the inner part it read ‘Love you’. I couldn’t help but caress the jewelry and was rewarded with Julian shiver from the touch.

Holding the ring between my fingers, I looked him in those blue eyes quite similar to the stone and said, “I want to know… what is this, Jules?”

“And I want to know why you left, but no one will tell me,” He answered pouting and running his right hand through my hair. “They say I have to ask you or Wes and neither actually tell me. I think I deserve to know.” He countered.

“I can’t babe,” I murmured completely zoned out from everything but his touch and his smell enveloping me. “He has to-,”

“Hey?! Are you two done? Can we continue or you guys need us to get inside to make up for lost time in my backyard?” Tom questioned, getting me out of my Julian’s bubble and making me jump away from Julian’s warm body.

Later that day, the guys all left to get ready for Chris big night and Only Tom and I were sitting on the grass, beer in hand watching the branches of the trees moving lightly with the wind and discussing how my team won if he had an NFL player in it. Tom was really competitive and had to find a reason for losing, even if it was only by a touchdown.

“He can’t give a hundred percent here,” I said after a sip. “D’you want to get Belichick yelling at you?”

“Haha, no. No one wants that, buddy,” Tom laughed a bit and then turned his face to look at me. “I saw you the way you looked at him, Danny. No one’s blind.”

“Yeah,” I muttered exasperatedly. I wouldn’t deny, there was no need to. One of my best friends was talking to me. No job, no fiancé and no judgmental shit, just someone I could trust everything. “He’s always there, Tom. No matter what I do, it feels like life’s playing with my feelings, putting him so close and untouchable at the same time.”

“Not so untouchable,” He pointed my chest with his beer. “That was him, right?” I only nodded. “You two should just get your shit together.”

“Easy like that,” I looked to the door where Chris had disappeared minutes earlier to take a shower. “He’s gonna get married and the ring ain’t gonna be mine.”

“Weeeeell,” My head snapped in Tom’s direction again to see him rubbing his neck and looking down. “The one on his necklace, that one is yours.”

My word froze and my jaw dropped in surprise. There was no way Julian was about to propose when I left. It simply couldn’t be.

With my heart beating harder and faster than ever before, my mouth couldn’t form full sentences, leaving me to a pile of, “Was he – was he – was he – wa- w – wa?”

“Since you’re asking so eloquently,” Tom mocked my affliction. “He tells everyone it’s a family thing. Something like his grandpa wedding band and shit. But he told me he was already so in love with you that he knew he wanted to spend his life with you.”

We probably stood there for minutes, quiet and waiting for me to digest the piece of information. Julian wanted to marry me. Julian was nineteen and would have proposed to me.

“That’s why I agreed of never telling him about you,” Tom said getting up slowly. “He was nineteen, Danny, he would’ve jumped on a plane and gone to Foxborough. I wanted to see him where he’s now.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked when he started to move back to his house.

Looking over his shoulder, Tom smiled calculatedly and said, “Cause in the end, it was always you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Country fans beware of how this fanfic might trigger needs to listen to Brad Paisley, Luke Bryan and Blake Shelton.


	15. I'm Always Gonna Want You Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is goodbye... maybe not, who stays and who goes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE VERY LAST ONE AND NEXT ONE IS JUST ME SAYING BYE, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.

Danny didn’t have time to speak to Julian the rest of the day. Between getting ready, checking out the church and the hotel, making sure the band was good to go, he only saw Julian ten minutes before the ceremony started. They were standing there awaiting their time to walk in and all dressed in the black tux crew formal attire.

Chris was shaking badly and Danny plus the other groomsmen had to help to calm him down enough to get him into where he had to be. After that, they had to focus on the ceremony and all they could do was steal some glances, even if Welker was there constantly checking on him. So all there was left was wait for the party to finally get a chance to speak to the blonde man.

He was drinking whiskey and leaned against the bar; waiting for a chance to get Julian away from the infernal man he called fiancé when a very familiar voice reached his ears.

"Doctor Amendola," in a blue tuxedo and a matching bowtie, Kent's dean forced a smile at him.

"Forehea- Peyton, long time no see," Danny said not even bothering in trying to pretend he liked the man. He had taken Welker side over the eight good professors, just cause he wanted to step over Tom and feel like he had more power over them.

"Lovely Amendola, very polite and grown up," Peyton answered never losing the annoying polite tone.

"It's plain old me," Danny retorted, accepting the flute of champagne the waiter offered him.

"Look who's causing trouble again," Eli said, moving towards them, nursing a colorful cocktail with a pink umbrella and looking straight at Danny. "Has big ol' forehead been pestering you, loverboy?"

Since he didn't have any professional ties to the university anymore, the Doctor was laughing hard the second the words were out of Eli's mouth.

"You know what?" Peyton's polite smile faltered and for the first time during their conversation, Danny could see the real man behind the mask. "I'm starting to get annoyed with you, Doctor Manning."

"Oh my God! Stop being so self-centered! You just call me Doctor Manning to be able to hear your own nomenclature!" Eli's older brother rolled his eyes and started to walk away. "Love you, big bro," the professor blew him an extra-exaggerated kiss and kept there by his side laughing. “Sorry for that man, sometimes he’s a little shit.”

“It’s alright,” Danny nodded acceptingly. “It doesn’t matter, man. If he wasn’t such a dick, it wouldn’t feel exactly like coming home.”

“I know what you mean,” Eli had followed Danny’s stare to find it on Julian dancing with Wes. “It sucks seeing him with Welker. For real, it feels so wrong.”

“Ha, I won’t even start,” Danny agreed, no heat on his forced smile.

“We took good care of your boy,” Eli patted on the shoulder.

“Thanks, he still the same man I love and I owe it to you guys,” The Doctor accepted Eli’s quick hug before moving towards Ashley, that was stunning in her fancy dress, beside Gisele and waiving in their direction, calling him.

Eli only moved towards the gang standing close to each other to make themselves heard over the sound and right next to the dancing floor. They were there for quite a while, chatting when Julian finally made time to talk to them

"Hey bubs," Tom said, hugging Julian around the shoulders and kissing him lightly on the forehead. "Been trying to get a hold of you all night."

"He's famous now Thomas," Eli smirks at him and fist bump Julian. "Show the boy some respect."

"Yeah, show the boy some respect!" Chris said laughing. Even though Welker was there beside Julian, uncomfortably quiet, it was hard not to feel like our group was complete once again, with Danny making their way across the room, arms linked to Gisele and Ashley.

"It's so weird not having you guys around," Julian smiled fondly, hands shoved into his trousers pockets.

"If that's the way you have of telling us you're not getting us Super Bowl tickets," Tony started, eyes firmly placed on Danny's trajectory coming their way. "Then you don't really know us, Jules!"

"He's not going to let that happen," Welker's voice was shy as all of them followed in an awkward silence, not really into forgiving him what he had done. "Come on guys, it's been three years."

"Three years are not nearly enough to erase what you’ve done," Aaron said, as honestly as one of the men in the group could. The guys only nodded or looked away, no one ready to forget the betrayal.

"Hello, queridos," Gisele was the one to break the ice, arm linked to Danny's, smiling softly as they approached us.

"Hey babe," Tom blew a kiss at her as she stood there beside a grinning Danny. Ashley was leaning against his side, careful not to get make-up on Danny’s suit, and smiling at her husband.

Must had been because suddenly they were quiet and Welker didn't mean to say it loud enough for them to listen, but he was looking distracted as he said, "Who trusts their partners to be around Amendola?"

"You can relax guys," Danny said as he saw the rage expressions towards the blonde man. Welker, realizing he had said that aloud, just looked at Danny, smiling wryly, not even apologizing. However, they all knew Danny's sharp nature when it came to mean comments, so of course, after a second or two they were trying their best to cover the laughter after his, "My name's not Wes Welker."

Everyone knew it was on Gisele and Ashley's presences the fact that Welker didn't retort in a very offensive manner, but no one expected him to simply turn his back and leave them. Exchanging glances between themselves, not a single them could pinpoint why Welker left instead of simply raise his voice like he usually did.

"Guess I should check my Fiancé," Julian said looking at his feet. It was impossible to know what he was thinking about and at that moment and Danny caught himself wishing for a second, harder than ever, that Welker had never walked into our lives. Of course, life would be different, but he would be a present part of the group he came to love so much and all of them would be truly happy.

"I'm sorry Jules," Danny said, staring at the player. It was hard to see them this close but not together.

"Don't say you're sorry for things you're not, Dola," Aaron said catching our attention. "You can't tell me you don't see that none of us like him."

"Don't think I’ve never wasted time thinking about it, but I'll hold you all to the unspoken promise of telling me why," Saying that, Julian followed Welker's footsteps.

“You gotta talk to him, Danny” Tony was beside him and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. Danny looked to his friends and all of them were nodding in acceptance, but it was the newlywed pushing him away from the group that made him finally leave.

Looking pretty much everywhere, Danny found Julian on the balcony, his strong silhouette contrasting against the bright white moonlight. His heart felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire and his hands were sweating.

He was finally going to tell Julian everything.

“Where’s your fiancé, kiddo?”

“Just drop it, Dola,” Julian turned around and nodded as if inviting Danny to get closer, to which he obliged quickly.

Julian’s presence and all the things he had awaken inside his chest were more than enough to make his legs shake, but he was on a mission and only the truth mattered. Danny was going to tell Julian everything and then his beautiful blonde kiddo would decide what to do.

Of course, he ignored when his traitorous brain decided to ask itself what Danny would do if Julian picked Welker.

“Please,” Julian started exasperated, his side leaned against the marble balustrade and looking Danny in the eyes. Out there in the darkness, Danny couldn’t see the blue shade of his eyes, but Julian looked like a Michelangelo sculpture and if he could he would stare at him forever. “I’m so frustrated!”

“You want to know what happened three years ago, right?” Julian nodded and Danny took a long calm breath. “I was forced to leave,” He began trying not to lose his composure. “Your fiancé found out about us back then. He was obsessed and if you ask me he still is,” Danny felt heat start take over him. He had held that story for so long, it felt great to finally let it go. “Anyways, he told Peyton that back at that time was trying to become the dean. Then they told the dean we were together and I couldn’t stay here, cause otherwise, they would have made it hell for me to get work, so the boys helped me find one.”

For a second two long Julian looked baffled, but then he shook his head in denial, “He couldn’t have done that! He was - he was there to help me when it got worse, even though I was a terrible boyfriend.”

“What has he done to you, Julian?” Danny asked completely bewildered. None of that was his fault. It was all Welker from the start. Julian started to move away, but Danny caught his arm, not really applying pressure, just enough to let his touch calm Julian down. “Wes was never there to help, cause he was the problem in the first place!” Julian kept shaking his head like it was hurting and Danny let his arm go. “HE ONLY CARES ABOUT HIMSELF!” Stopping to calm himself, the Doctor lowered his voice. “That’s why he went to the dean! Because as long as I was here he wouldn’t have you,” Danny stepped closer to Jules and hopped the man couldn’t see his watering eyes, his voice shaking with fear was enough to make him drink himself till he was numb if Julian decided to leave him. “I am sorry to say it, but he doesn’t care about you, Julian! The only reason he even wants to marry you is cause you denied him and that turned him into a creepy monster. Can you tell me you don’t just do what he wants? Tell me, Jules! When was the last time you two did something you wanted?”

The words were stuck in Julian's throat and Danny continued, getting even closer, their bodies two inches away from touching. "When was the last time he gave you what you needed and only because he knew it would make you happy?" He reached to touch Julian's jaw. "And I know you know the ring that should be here," Danny took Julian’s left hand and intertwine their fingers, "Is the ring you keep close to your heart." Still speechless, Julian reached with his free hand to trace the ring burning his skin.

"Tom told me kiddo," Danny smiled sweetly at him, their hands still together and the other one never leaving Julian's bearded jaw. "To be honest, I don't know what I would have done back then, but I sure know I'm gonna put a freaking platinum band on that finger if you let me and every day I'll try my best to give you everything you need."

"I-I- What? Why no one told me?" Julian asked, divided between being shocked or utterly sad.

"I asked them to," Danny answered, touching his forehead against Julian's. "Before you get all hot and bothered, I know you're thinking I deprived you of making a choice you should have done and looking back, it really was your choice, but I was not going to ask you to quit your dreams. I'm not your Fiancé, for fuck's sake!” He stopped and gave Julian a quick peck on the lips, unable to keep everything he was feeling to himself. Julian closed his eyes and moistened his lips with his tongue, almost as if chasing Danny’s taste on his lips.

“I'd do you so much better than he does!” Danny started again. “At that time I couldn't risk you losing your career and it ended up taking its toll on us! But now? Now you're living fifteen minutes away from me and the only thing stopping me from being two seconds away, in your bed every morning, is the fucking ring,” Before Julian could react, the hand Danny had intertwined with his quickly took his engagement ring off and held it with the tips of his index and thumb. “I know you have some feelings for Welker, at least gratitude for something he didn’t deserve," Once he started he couldn’t stop and had to reach Julian’s lips again. Kissing him after confessing everything felt like two heavyweights were lifted off his back. "And I'm not here to tell you shit wouldn't have been tough for us if he hadn't told Manning. I'm here to tell you that all of that shit and three years separated, have only made me love you even more than I did before. So please tell me, what you gonna do with this?" Danny let Julian ring slip into his palm and offered it to Julian.

At that moment nothing else mattered, only the fact that Julian took the ring and threw it as far as he could into the trees behind the hotel.

All of sudden Julian’s arms were around his neck; his hands were pulling his kiddo by the waist and they were kissing like crazy. Bodies touching everywhere, tongues dancing in synchrony and they were melting into each other.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Danny forced himself to break their kiss only to see Welker marching towards them. He was about to prepare himself to punch Wes when Julian took the front, standing between them.

“Fuck Wes! No more violence,” Julian said, his hands on Welker’s chest. “You betrayed me! I loved him and you broke us up!” The short man is wide-eyed, realizing Julian found out everything. He’s about to say something but Julian cut him, “I don’t want to hear from you ever again! If you ever get close to me, Imma calling the cops on you! NOW DISAPPEAR!”

Then Danny was there beside Julian, caressing his back to help him stop shaking, a movement Welker didn’t take very well. He was so deep into his obsessed frenzy, he didn’t see people moving next to the door.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Welker yelled at them, making Danny laugh.

“You can’t,” was the only thing he said, the smile never leaving his face. Julian shot him a funny look but kept quiet.

“You’re so full yourself! Think you can beat me again?”

“I know I can,” with his arms up in a rendition sign, he continued. “But, I won’t,” with one of his hand pointing to the door, Danny paused for a second positively beaming. “They will!”

When Welker turned his head to look, all the nine members of the Black Tux Pack were standing at the door, arms crossed in front of their chests, looking like they never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

"I'd enjoy a lot if you lower your tone," Chris spat, looking possibly murderous as he moved towards Welker. "My wedding doesn't need you throwing a scene."

"But-" Wes started but Tom shook his head and he stopped.

"You've been apologizing a lot these past years Wes," Tom was the softest of them and even then he looked as he could throw Welker from that balcony at that moment. "I told you this wasn't going to end well," He touched the blonde man shoulder politely but firmly. "Don't even start speaking, we don't want to hear. It's a little too late now and sincerely, I think I speak for everyone here when I say we're just not interested."

"You lucky I'm not kicking your ass," Randy said from behind everyone as if using the other guys as a barrier to stop himself.

"Not in hell," Welker looked pissed off and Danny had never been as happy as he was at that moment. Justice was being made, Julian was with him and Welker was finally getting what he deserved.

Pulling Julian closer sensing he was about to do something he would regret, Danny felt the man tensing in his arms.

"Kiddo," he murmured the sweet nickname on Julian's hair. "Everything will be fine."

"It will, but fuck!" Julian said loud enough for everyone to look at him. "You lied to me for three years Wes," He looked so hurt and betrayed that Danny had to fight not to punch Welker again. Not a single person who made Julian suffer deserved his beautiful presence. "I thought I was a bad boyfriend!" Julian's voice was starting to get louder again, but Chris glared at him and he lowered his tone again. "I felt bad, cause I never loved you like I thought you deserved. Why Wes? If you really loved me, why?" When Wes, for the first time looking bad and on the verge of crying, tried to speak Julian cut him. "Rhetorical! I don't want to hear your voice! Just go!"

"You heard the man," Tony stopped beside Welker, touched his forearm as if to escort him out and the blonde professor pulled his arm heavily, almost hitting Tom. "Relax Welker, I can call the security staff if you want too."

"I'M NOT LEAVING," He tried to move towards Julian but Tom's hand flew to his chest and suddenly Eli and Aaron were beside him as well, holding him in place.

Steve and Ryan had to pull Randy back in, cause the man was about to hit Welker and Phillip shook his head, "I hope Karma is a thing, cause if it is you'll get three Randys in your face and we won't be there to stop them," and followed the other professors back.

"FUCK YOU RIVERS!" Welker shouted and then a loud smack was heard. Everyone looked shocked at Chris, who had a relieved expression on his face.

"I've been waiting for it for so fucking long," Chris smiled proudly and Eli started laughing, unable to hold it in. "You were not invited, you're Julian plus one and you won't ruin my wedding."

At that moment, as if on cue, two security guards walked into the balcony. Wes looked baffled at the two giant men and stopped trying to move.

"You know what they say?" Eli said once Welker was being escorted out of the balcony. "MOVE BITCH!"

Holding Julian's head against his chest, Danny smiled at the pack and they smiled back as if the future was promising everything would finally be its respective places.

Danny was fine with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE END,  
> HOLD YOUR BREATH AND COUNT TO TEN!  
> This is hard, to say goodbye... So please, if at some point you read it, leave your comment.  
> I need to know what to do next.


End file.
